


songs from the ash

by explosivesky



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of past abuse, SUPER background kimallura, all links are clickable, background pikelan, rock star/movie star au, slow burn??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 11:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 54,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12816993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explosivesky/pseuds/explosivesky
Summary: It all starts because of Keyleth: Keyleth, who turns his apartment into a greenhouse within a month of knowing him despite his antisocial demeanor; Keyleth, who gathers up his awards show after-party invitations and plans out their itinerary like a travel agent; Keyleth, who walks up to her favorite band sitting at a bar and says, Hey, I love your music.But fame isn't quite so bad, Percy says to Vex with a smile, if it introduced him to someone like her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me at twelveclara.tumblr.com!

It’s an accident that he meets her at all, really; they just happen to be at the same afterparty.  
   
He’d gotten an invitation and he’d promised Keyleth he’d take her if he did, secretly hoping he wasn’t yet popular enough to warrant an invite to an awards show for an art he wasn’t even involved in. But apparently he is, to his chagrin; he’s an actor, for god’s sake, not a musician. That’s likely the family influence.  
   
Either way, it’s how he’s ended up at the Grammys with Keyleth squirming impatiently at his side as they await the announcement of the winner for “Best New Artist.” He watches faces and songs he doesn’t recognize flash across the giant screens and thinks that _maybe_ he should start listening to the radio.   
   
Damn his recent, more mainstream work. He should’ve stuck to indie.  
   
Keyleth suddenly screams next to him, clapping wildly and whistling. He keeps his expression politely engaged, remembering they’re in pretty good seats and riding a wave of fame at the moment, meaning they’re likely to be panned to at random intervals for online streams of the audience, or whatever; fortunately Keyleth’s excitement is genuine and he’s a pretty good actor. Or so his reviews say.  
   
An odd, mismatched group of people traipse up to the stage, grinning and giggling and shoving each other - one of them is _huge_ , definitely cracking six and a half feet - and the screen behind them reads _Vox Machina._ Two members of the five-person group step up to the mic, eerily similar in appearance; they’re definitely related, both with long black hair and similar bone structure, though the boy is a little more angular, sharper. The woman speaks first, holding her award in the air and smiling widely; she says, “Here’s to our darling father, who told us we’d never amount to anything,” and Percy is immediately captivated despite himself. Her brother laughs loudly and raises a finger - Percy’s sure this is quite unprofessional and absolutely not allowed on television, but the audience is widely amused; Keyleth hollers next to him - and a small girl with white hair tugs the mic down and says, “No, really, thank you so much, we love our fans, thanks, this is amazing--” before the exit music starts to play.   
   
The big guy in the back bends down and screams “ _Rage on!_ ” and the crowd goes nuts, Keyleth included.  
   
He leans over to her. “Who are they? What kind of music do they play? That was a wildly inappropriate display.”   
   
Her eyes are bright as she turns to him. “Oh, they’re the best,” she gushes enthusiastically. “ _Vox Machina -_ they’re alternative rock, mostly, but they’ve got some songs that hedge on punk.” That explains it, Percy thinks. “Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan, they’re the twins and the frontrunners - he shreds on the guitar, she’s an amazing singer and I _think_ she can secretly play every instrument - the shorter guy, that’s Scanlan, he _definitely_ can play every instrument and he’s like, a classically trained singer - Grog’s the big one and he drums, obviously - and then there’s Pike, the smaller girl, who mostly plays the keys.” She barely breathes while she tells him this, her excitement getting in the way of her basic primal needs, like oxygen. She’s been trying to engage him in their music for the better part of a year, so his slight interest is driving her wild.  
   
“Wow,” he says, because there’s not much else to say. “I’m intrigued, if nothing else.”  
   
“I’ll get you to fall in love with them if it’s the last thing I ever do,” she declares dramatically, riding the high of their win.   
   
He rolls his eyes but humors her; he knows better than to trample on other people’s passions.   
   
And--  
   
Well--  
   
As it turns out, she’s _almost_ right.  
   
\--  
   
They’re at one of the smaller after-parties - he couldn’t say whose, as Keyleth had mostly planned their itinerary for the night, despite the invitations being directed at him - and though it’s crowded, it’s a cooler, looser crowd; the setting is more relaxed than he’s used to, and everyone’s letting their hair down, dancing, drinking, laughing, yelling.   
   
The music is loud and pulses through him. Keyleth starts to sway automatically.   
   
“I want a drink,” she shouts, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the bar. Not like he could lose her, anyway; she’s tall and towers over a lot of people there. Keyleth often gets mistaken for a model whenever they go out in public, which endlessly amuses him because she’s just so _awkward._ Objectively, yes, Keyleth is gorgeous, but she spends more time covered in soil and talking to the plants she fills his apartment with than him for him to ever think of her as anything models usually encompass - grace and elegance, for starters.   
   
(First thing to know about Keyleth: she ferociously believes that in another life, she’s a florist instead of an actress, or maybe she’s a national park ranger, or she’s botanist, or a wild creature that lives in the forest and carves herself a home out of a hollow tree - in truth, she can never pick which one is most appealing to her. All of them are fitting.)  
   
The bartender raises a quick eyebrow as he spots her, immediately coming to her service. “What can I get you?”   
   
She smiles and her teeth sparkle. “Four shots, tequila. And then I’d like a paloma, please.”   
   
(Second thing to know about Keyleth: she can sure fucking _drink._ )  
   
The bartender nods once, looking simultaneously impressed and concerned, before shifting his attention to Percy. “You?”  
   
He opens his mouth to answer, and that’s when he sees her.   
   
She’s sitting on the other side of the bar, talking animatedly to her brother and a dark-skinned man with piercing eyes and long hair tied back at the nape of his neck. Her lips wrap around her straw through her smile. She’s positively radiant. She’s ethereal, she’s glowing, she’s otherwordly--  
   
The bartender glances back to see what he’s staring at and snickers. “Yeah,” he says, understanding. “She’s fuckin’ something else, isn’t she?”   
   
Percy swallows and says, “Erm.”  
   
“He’ll have a mojito,” Keyleth interrupts. “Make it strong.”   
   
\--  
   
He’s not going to _talk_ to her, of course. He’s a gentleman and he doesn’t want to disturb her night. And, of course, she’s way out of his fucking league.  
   
But Keyleth - bless Keyleth, who completely doesn’t give a shit about any of the things Percy does, so free-spirited and pure-intentioned - downs two shots in quick succession while pushing the other two towards Percy, who follows, choking slightly, and walks confidently around the bar to where two members of her favorite band are relaxing in the afterglow of their win.  
   
Vax’ildan tilts his head and catches sight of _the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his life, holy shit, what the fuck,_ standing behind him with an easy-going grin. She slides in next to him and asks loudly (the music’s overpowering and pounding and Vax can feel it in his bones), “I love your band and I think you guys are awesome, do you wanna do shots with me?”   
   
Vex laughs nicely over his shoulder, but he can’t tear his gaze away from this transcendent being beside him, her long red hair spiraling over her shoulders, her eyes almost the color of gold - he says, “Erm, fuck yeah.” He’s seen her somewhere before, he knows, maybe a runway - he can’t put his finger on it, she looks kind of like a model, but--  
   
She smiles again and signals the bartender for four more shots.  
   
“Here,” she says, passing him one, Vex one, and downs the other two by herself. Vax is fucking in love with her already. She blinks slowly, her lips in a lazy curl. “There,” she says, pleased. “Now I feel great.”  
   
“I bet you do,” Vex replies, admiration in her voice, but she’s staring somewhere else.   
   
Gilmore is obviously delighted. He chortles out, “What a firecracker.”   
   
“Please excuse us,” a boy with a shock of white hair says from behind her, apologetic and uncomfortable; Vax hadn’t even noticed him until just now, but that hair on him is unmistakable--  
   
“I’m sorry,” Vax says, completely entranced, “but what is your name?”  
   
She leans closer to him suddenly, her fingers grasping the bar; the man next her tuts under his breath and steadies her. “I’m Keyleth,” she says, like she’s a fucking angel or something, which, Vax thinks, she probably is.  
   
Vex repeats, “Keyleth--”  
   
He knows that name - Keyleth, Keyleth, the way it rolls around in his mouth, Keyleth, _Keyleth_ \- “Oh, shit,” he says, recognition washing over him. “You’re in that film--!”    
   
She laughs delightedly. “Am I?”   
   
Vax finally tears his eyes away from Keyleth to the boy she’s with and it’s-- “You too! You were in--”   
   
Vex finishes excitedly, “-- _The Sun Tree_! I knew it was you, how could I not, but I didn’t want to interrupt -- oh, hells, we love that movie, it’s absolutely brilliant--” and Vax sees the anchor of her stare had been Percival the entire time, who has done nothing but silently take her in for the past five minutes, lacking Keyleth’s unconcerned nature, afraid to take a step.   
   
“Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the Third,” he introduces quickly, as he is prone to do when he is nervous or showing off; in this case it’s the former.   
   
Keyleth waves a hand airily. “You can call him Percy.”   
   
“Percy,” Vex echoes, and oh, he has never loved himself more than when she is holding him in her eyes.  
   
\--  
   
_Our manager, Shaun Gilmore, I’m Vax’ildan, that’s my sister, Vex’ahlia._ Short, brief, to the point.  
   
“Charmed,” Gilmore says, winking and clapping Vax on the shoulder before slipping out.   
   
Keyleth, now undeniably a little (a lot) drunk, leans her chin in palm, elbow on the bar. “Is there a garden?” she asks.   
   
“Probably,” Vax answers. “Big property, isn’t it? Let’s have a look.”   
   
He takes her by the hand and stands; she’s taller than him, which he thinks is fantastic, truthfully, though he’s sure they’ll be a bit more even when she’s not wearing heels, and waits for her agreement; she laughs lighter than the chime of the wind, and begins to drag him away with her. “I love flowers,” Percy hears her state as they head off, Vax’s face torn between dumbfounded and inspired.  
   
Percy wearily collapses on the now vacant barstool next to Vex, shaking his head. “Sorry about that,” he says, still not quite able to look at her for longer than a few seconds at a time. “She’s - ah - insatiable and innocent. It’s an interesting combination.”  
   
“Clearly,” Vex answers, her tone playful. “Not your girlfriend, I’d gathered that much.”  
   
He nearly chokes on his drink. “No, gods, no. Best friend, co-star on occasion.”   
   
“Good. He’s already obsessed with her,” she nods after her brother. “Better it be someone available.” She pauses. “Any particular reason you can’t bear to look at me, darling?”   
   
His face burns red, his ears hot, his neck tingling. He peaks at her over the rim of his glasses. He catches her fingers curling around her glass - rum and coke by the looks of it - the swell of her chest peeking out of her dress, her hair let out of its braid, loose and flowing and lightly curled against her back, her cheeks, the bright blue feather behind her ear - and he says, “I’ve not meant to be rude. It’s simply that - you’re a little too beautiful and I’m - new at this, I suppose. I apologize.”   
   
She’s silent for a moment, and when he sneaks another glance at her he’s surprised to see her expression flushed with a similar embarrassment; he’s caught her off-guard. The idea emboldens him slightly and he keeps his eyes locked on her.   
   
She meets his gaze and her lips turn up abashedly, genuinely. “That’s charming. Thank you. I appreciate your efforts to maximize my comfort, but I don’t mind if you stare. I’m aware of how good I look.”  
   
He laughs, startling himself. “Well, as I’ve been given permission, I must admit I feel much better about the whole thing.”   
   
“Excellent, because I’ve my own compliments to shower upon you,” she says, and holy hells, she’s too charming and easy for her own good - the air is warm around her, all the light is coming from her smile - “Truly, Percival, let me sing your praises again - I love your films. Honestly, Vax and I have seen _The Sun Tree_ too many times to count, I recognized you instantly - we’re big on fantasy,” she tells him, a hand briefly resting on his arm. She’s a little drunk herself, he’s realizing; but then again, who isn’t - it _is_ a party.   
   
“We’re filming the sequel at the moment,” he provides, holding back a laugh at her excited squeal.   
   
“Tell me nothing,” she says. “I want to be surprised and enthralled. Will you be attending the Academy Awards in a few weeks, as well?”   
   
“Oh, no,” he says bashfully, embarrassed that she even thinks he’s good enough to go. “My most recent film released after the cutoff date - I’ll qualify for next year, but as for this year, I have work obligations, so fortunately I can skip.” The music shifts, a base line thumping around his heart. Vex’s mouth twitches. He doesn’t think much of it. “And you?” he asks. “You’ve accomplished quite a musical feat - what’s next?”   
   
His tone is sincere, interested; she allows a full-blown curl of her lips and moves closer, cornering him, a strangely victorious glint in her eye. “You’ve never heard our music,” she accuses, apparently amused at the revelation.  
   
He weighs his options and decides on the truth. “No,” he admits sheepishly. “I haven’t. It’s a priority now, though. What gave me away?”  
   
She laughs loudly, gesturing at the speakers. “This is us.”   
   
He freezes immediately, becoming hyper aware of the beat in the background; it’s oddly refined for something so rough - it’s her voice singing, low and sensual and sharp at the edges, cutting into him with an edge that feels _good_ \- the notes are clean and the drums aren’t overpowering and it flows in a way he didn’t really think rock music, or punk-rock, whatever they are, was capable of.   
   
She’s watching him take it in and she’s silently mouthing the words without realizing it; her tongue darts out to wet her lips. _Find me someone out there whose heart isn’t full of holes, my hands are bloody from refusing to let you go._ Damn. He kind of hopes she didn’t write this.   
   
“Did you write this?” he asks.  
   
“No,” she says, and then: “Well, sort of. The sentiment of the song came from Pike, but Vax and I helped her with the lyrics.”   
   
“It’s good.” He clears his throat. “It’s great. You’re - you’re an incredible singer.” He frowns at his own attempt to pay her a compliment. “It’s not that I didn’t like your music, by the way. Keyleth is always telling me my taste in music is a grave offense to ‘all of the beautiful things life has to offer.’”  
   
Vex laughs again. “And what is your taste in music?”  
   
“I have none.”  
   
“Well, that certainly is a problem, then, isn’t it?” Her knee brushes his. He feels the condensation of his glass dripping across his fingers. “I’ll have to fix that.”   
   
“Please,” he answers, trying to fall back into it, relaxing against the bar. “I’m bereft. Clearly I’m missing a core defining aspect of the traditionally constructed personality. I was in a rush when I created mine.”   
   
“It’s a good thing you’ve got me, now, dear,” she says playfully, and the world keeps turning.  
   
Over the course of the next few hours, Percy learns that Vex is beautiful everywhere; he sees it in the way her fingers curl delicately around his wrist when she’s sincere, how her hidden talent is actually archery and _not_ the fact that she can play most instruments, the brush of her eyelashes against her cheek as she winks (which she does, often, because she clearly knows how to get what she wants from him, from everybody); it’s in the almost sultry tone of her voice when she calls him _darling_ and _dear_ , her mouth against the rim of her drink, the way she throws her head back when she laughs. Vex is funny and she’s _clever_ ; he banters with her like he was born knowing the trigger to her smile, and she provides insightful commentary from angles he’s never bothered to consider. She calls him out when his words drop from his lips in ways he doesn’t intend them and he challenges her prejudices against the industry and the fame and the wealth.   
   
“Percival, darling, we had vastly different upbringings,” she points out. “Not to dwell, as I’ve a tad more tact than that, but I do know what you come from.”   
   
The slight hinting at his past doesn’t sting the way he’s used to; he finds he actually appreciates the promptness and matter-of-fact tone she’s adopted while discussing it. “Fair,” he concedes. “I don’t know yours, though, do I?”   
   
“Syldor Vessar is my father,” she says, and he raises his eyebrows in shock. “Yes, you _would_ know of him, as I’d assumed. Being a Lord yourself,” she teases, and he reddens once again. “Or is it Duke? I’ve no taste for royalty. You outrank our father by miles, though, I know that much.”  
   
“I don’t tend to adhere to that custom,” he says. “I’m no Lord, nor Duke. I mean, technically, yes, I am - but my sister Cassandra is much more suited to the position than I.” He smirks at her. “And I get the sense you’d have a taste for the _right_ royalty.”   
   
“Ta,” she answers, grinning back. “And as Syldor’s bastard children, Vax and I were also quite unsuited to that life.” She hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip, before adding: “For what it’s worth, I _am_ sorry.”  
   
Ah, of course.  
   
Being from England, she _would_ be aware of the incident - most people who search him, he imagines, are - the fire that claimed his family and forced him and his sister into positions they weren’t ready for.   
   
“It isn’t for you to concern yourself with,” he says gently, trying to cue to her that he appreciates it but doesn’t want to discuss it further. Fortunately, she’s perceptive and picks up on the message easily enough, offering a sharp nod in return. “I can have Cassandra stir up some trouble for your father, though, if you’d prefer. Where does he reside?”   
   
She laughs; such a welcome sound. “Reading.”   
   
“Marquess of Reading?”   
   
“Yes. And your sister - Duchess of Cornwall, is that correct?”   
   
“Yes,” he affirms, suddenly missing Cassandra terribly. “She is quite fit for royalty, though she never should’ve achieved such high status.”   
   
“Royalty fits you as well, Percival,” Vex says, looking at him intensely, carefully, a wicked glint shining in her eye, like _royalty_ is an outfit she’s dressing him in. “My _Lord_.”  
   
A jolt of electricity shoots up his spine, channeling the rest of his bones, like he’s made of copper and metal. He isn’t sure what to make of it. “Ah, that’s - erm - really not...necessary, _Lady_ Vex’ahlia.”   
   
She grimaces and flips him the bird. “You’ve proved your point. I’m no Lady.”   
   
He takes her offensive hand in his own, covering it, pulling her closer - maybe it’s the alcohol, the dimness of the fairy lights, the moon shadowing overhead - her lips red, her eyes a dark mirror of the night sky, the catch of breath in her lungs - “Say what you must, but I disagree,” he murmurs. “Look at you.”   
   
She swallows quietly. “Yeah?”  
   
“I’ve known plenty of people with money, dear, and they are certainly not worth you.”   
   
\--  
   
Keyleth bends down, her face buried against the roses, fingers gently scraping against the thorns; she lays her palms flat against the grass, the mossy rocks, the rough tree bark. Her heels lay strewn somewhere by the garden path. Vax watches as if he’s in a trance, this unearthly nymph, this woodland creature - “Keyleth,” he says in awe, absolutely struck by her raw love of life, “Keyleth, what _are_ you?”   
   
She smiles wide and takes his hand, pressing a loose petal into his palm, and then holding it to her heart.  
   
“Don’t you feel that?” she asks lowly, and he smells the tequila but there’s also something fresh, like rain on woodchips, fog; she inhales deeply. “The entire earth inside of me. I could’ve been a forest, once, you know.”   
   
“You’re absolutely nuts,” he says. “I want to marry you.”   
   
She laughs and laughs and laughs, falling back against the grass like nothing in life could ever make her happier. He lies beside her and lets her tell him of wonderful, impossible things; how she believes she belongs to another world, one where she tends to the world’s largest garden and carries the light of the sun in her bare hands, and if he were interested, perhaps the two of them could grow tomatoes together.  
   
“I am,” he says vehemently, “I am,” and for a split second, he swears he recognizes her from a different life, a flash of a bed of flowers and a flickering pair of raven’s wings, their souls in flux across the universe.   
   
\--  
   
Vex’s eyes dart down to his lips, her heart pounding; she’s full of fire and smoke, explosions beating against her ribcage, and there’s this boy, his gasp of white hair, his rounded glasses, his earnestness - his shy attraction, his quieted demons, his addicting voice - he’s so handsome, he’s so--  
   
“Beautiful,” Vex whispers. “You, too, you know. You’re beautiful.”   
   
He blinks slowly, dazedly, and she leans forward--  
   
“Hey, Stubby,” her brother’s stupid fucking nickname for her rings in her ear, and she’s absolutely going to kill him tonight. “Come on, we’ve got to go. It’s nearly four.”   
   
Percy pulls back, looking sheepish and nervous again. The announcement of the time deters her from murder for a moment. “Is it really?”   
   
“Yep,” Vax says cheerfully, his arm around Keyleth, who’s a little unsteady at his side.   
   
“Percy!” she says, and flings her arms around him overenthusiastically. “I’m having so much fun!”   
   
“It certainly seems so,” he says, his glasses knocked askew. Vex restrains a smile, not wanting to reveal anything to her brother about how her night had gone.   
   
“Percy, we haven’t watered your plants for _hours._ ”   
   
“I’m sure they’re fine.”   
   
Vax grins, unconcerned, uncaring of whatever Vex might gather from his expression. Well, they always did differ that way. Vax wore his positive emotions on his sleeve; Vex cloaked them in whatever material she could get her hands on.   
   
“Keyleth,” Vax says her name unbearably softly, and oh, he’s so fucking _fucked._ She turns to face him, releasing Percy. “It was lovely to spend the evening with you.”   
   
He takes her hand and presses a kiss to it, and she giggles. “You too, Vax. Thanks for - humoring me.”   
   
“I wasn’t.” He says it so seriously that she can’t doubt the sincerity.   
   
She giggles again bashfully and says, “Well, I - thanks, and I guess I’ll - you know, see you around.”   
   
“Definitely.”   
   
Vex looks at Percy and rolls her eyes pointedly. He half-smiles in response, but she knows exactly what he means.   
   
A hand smacks the back of her head. “Up. Let’s go.”  
   
“Fuck, Vax, _okay,_ ” she snarls, instantly annoyed with him. He gets the perfect night and then ruins the climax of hers. Fucker. “I’m coming.”   
   
It’s enough for him - he turns and starts shouting for Grog, who Vex is pretty sure has been challenging people to arm wrestling and shotgunning contests all night.   
   
Keyleth also starts wobbling away, heading for the gate. Vex slips off the stool to her feet as Percy remains, still a bit stupefied; his eyes follow her, and he says, “Vex’ahlia.”  
   
“Yes?” she asks, unmoving.   
   
He seems to deliberate for a second before smiling delicately and saying, “I meant what I said.”   
   
The spell has been broken already, and the moment is clearly over, but she bends down anyway and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her hand resting gently underneath his jaw, his fingertips against her wrist.  
   
“You don’t know me,” she says, slipping for the briefest of seconds, and there’s a sadness to her he hadn’t called attention to before. “Goodnight, Percival.”  
   
“Goodnight,” he breathes out, his hand falling away as she steps to join her brother, and it’s the last time he sees her for months.   
   
\--  
   
So, Percy’s bright, sure. He’s intelligent. But he’s also a fucking idiot.   
   
“I can’t believe you didn’t get her phone number,” Keyleth says for the thousandth time, sending a text to Vax, who’s somewhere in the rural wilderness of Montana at the moment.   
   
“Thanks, Keyleth,” Percy answers, disappointment unfolding in his stomach as he scrolls on his laptop, seeing paparazzi pictures of her from a few days earlier leaving a bar with some guy. He’s jealous, even though he has no reason to be - it was one night, one conversation, over a month ago. He needs to get over it.   
   
“I can ask Vax about the guy, if you want,” Keyleth offers helpfully as a crew member touches up her make-up. They’ve started filming the sequel to _The Sun Tree_ , called _Passed Through Fire._ He thinks of Vex constantly, wondering if she’ll see it, if she’ll love it, how she’ll feel watching him. He tries to do a better job. He wants his future self to impress her, somehow.   
   
“No, it’s fine,” he says dejectedly, immediately wincing at the sound of his own pathetic voice. They’ve had this conversation before, always ending in the same denial.  
   
Keyleth frowns, because she’s a good friend, because she wants him to be happy - “Too bad,” she says, quickly typing out a message with a flourish, “I’m asking.”  
   
“No, Keyleth, don’t--” he tries to stop her, but it’s been sent. He hangs his head and rubs his eyes. “Balls.”   
   
_TO: Vax_  
_Hey who’s that guy your sister was with the other night? Saw the pics_  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_o that’s just jarrett. he sometimes works security w us & he acts as her bodyguard when she’s out alone_  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_y_  
   
_TO: Vax_  
_Percy was totally jealous lol but don’t tell him I told you_  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_hahaha does he want her # i can just give it to u_  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_she wants his 2 lets do a swap shes always moping around now_  
   
_TO: Vax_  
_I love matchmaking!!_  
   
She swipes “share contact” and gets Vex’s number in a matter of seconds - she saves it, but doesn’t do anything with it yet. “He’s her bodyguard,” she tells Percy, who perks up instantly.   
   
“Not that it’s any of my business,” he supplies, and Keyleth just grins.   
   
“Sure,” she says, continuing to text Vax, letting Percy have his moment of relief in private. He’s called to set a second later, and the scene goes brilliantly; they only do three takes just to get the angles, and the director has no notes for him.  
   
He heads back to his chair, Keyleth now in full hair and makeup, still texting away.   
   
His phone buzzes suddenly, and he opens the home screen--  
   
Keyleth, grinning even wider, has sent him Vex’s contact details.   
   
She’s called for her scene a moment later, and before he can even process what he’s staring at, she says, “You can thank me later.”   
   
He doesn’t thank her. He’s done for the day, and he heads home without another word to anybody.   
   
\--  
   
Vex is scrolling through twitter when Vax approaches from behind - she’s lived with him forever, and she can sense him coming, but she doesn’t bother deterring him - she’s got pretty good aim if he does something obnoxious.  
   
“Guess what Keyleth told me,” Vax sing-songs in her ear, loud and annoying. She reaches up a hand and swats him away.  
   
“What?” she asks, kind of curious despite herself.  
   
Vax smirks. “His Royal Highness saw those pictures of you with Jarrett,” he says, shrugging. “Apparently, they made him a tad jealous...”   
   
Vex struggles to keep her voice level; internally she’s burning again. “Is that so?”   
   
“Yeah.”   
   
“Well, thanks for the update,” she says, and returns to her twitter feed.  
   
Vax rolls his eyes. “I know you fancy him,” he says. “Quit being so bloody obtuse.”   
   
“I’m not doing anything,” she argues, not lifting her eyes from her phone. _That’s not it,_ she wants to say. _It’s more than that. He knew me, Vax, I swear. Like from somewhere else. Like recognizing someone you’ve never met. He knew._  
   
But she doesn’t say anything.   
   
“When was the last time you shagged about with Jarrett?” he prods, and she senses a challenge coming but she won’t give in.   
   
She side-eyes him. “A few months ago,” she answers honestly; nothing to hide there. He knew the answer, anyway.  
   
“Why’d you stop?”   
   
Fucking prick. “Because--” she starts, and stops, and starts again, a sputtering engine. _Because I keep dreaming in monochrome, because I see his eyes when I blink; because I can almost taste_ _him._ “Fuck off, Vax,” she says instead. He’s so beautiful it haunts her. She wants to ruin him like he’s ruining her. There’s that smoldering heat - the desire for his shy stare, probing her - she doesn’t want him to look at anyone else like he’d looked at her then.   
   
Her phone buzzes; Vax’s name pops up, along with the contact details for _Lord Percival whatever whatever de Rolo,_ and Vex has to do everything in her power to keep her emotions sealed tight.   
   
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Vax says, and she’s on the verge of combusting.  
   
She _doesn’t_ do anything with it. Not yet. Instead, she searches his name on twitter and follows him.   
   
And then follows him on every other platform he has an account on.   
   
\--  
   
_@imvexthatsvax I’m flattered. I loved your album._  
   
_@percivalderolo glad to see you’re finally developing your personality, darling._  
   
\--  
   
(Nobody really knows what to do with _that_ exchange.)  
   
\--  
   
It’s nothing, but Percy rereads her tweet over and over again. He still can’t shake his inadequacy - she’s so much larger than life, so confident and sure of herself, so untethered and unshaken - and he’s, well - he’s pretty fucked up.  
   
He’s better now, sure. He goes to therapy. But the world knows his story and to them, he’s like a war hero, a tragedy-turned-to-art, some sort of sad, beautiful thing that is deserving of an embrace. He feels slightly like everyone is clamoring to adopt him, like he’s lost, soulless.   
   
Which - even if he is - he’s dealing with it. He’s trying. He’s _becoming_.   
   
He hovers over Vex’s contact details again; she doesn’t have time for broken pieces of his life when hers is already so full.  
   
\--  
   
_PercivaldeRolo liked your photo._  
   
The thing that really starts to eat at Vex is how _famous_ he is.  
   
He’s on the cover of magazines, he’s interviewed on talk shows, there are paparazzi pictures of him _everywhere;_ he’s a _movie star_ for fuck’s sake. He’s royalty. He’s every possible intimidating title tucked into one person, and he represents so much of the acceptance she and Vax never got.   
   
_PercivaldeRolo liked your photo._ It’s a picture Vax took of her with her feet up on the dashboard of their tour bus. Sometimes she likes to sit up front and stare out at the unfolding scenery ahead, the countryside shifting around them, the bustling towns, the big cities, the secluded forests, the vast, empty valleys.   
   
“Hey, Kiki, look at this,” Vax says from behind her, and she twists around to see him holding his phone up to the window. “The fields! I don’t know if the quality is any good, but the flowers are blooming--”   
   
“ _It’s so pretty!”_ She can hear Keyleth’s exclamation through Vax’s earphones. “ _Percy, hey, check this out--_ ”  
   
“Hey, de Rolo,” Vax says, waving into the camera, and quickly shifts the phone towards her. “The gang’s all here!”   
   
Vex suddenly can’t move, so overwhelmed by the idea that after a month, Percy can _see_ her - he’s staring at her now, she wonders what his face his like, his eyes, if his lips are still where she left them - ”He says hi,” Vax passes on - and she smiles as her stomach bubbles up, her heart in her throat. She raises a hand carefully and waves.   
   
“Hello, darling,” she says, and to her relief her voice sounds steady.  
   
Vax is silent for a moment. “He says you’ve failed your duties.”  
   
“Sorry?”   
   
“He’s still without tunes.”   
   
She feels herself smiling without a thought. “Keyleth isn’t helping you with that?”   
   
“ _He doesn’t trust me, Vex!”_ She hears Keyleth yell. “ _He’d trust you, though--_ ”  
   
Vax laughs at whatever is happening on-screen. She stands, suddenly ill, and pushes past Vax. “Sorry - need to make a call,” she hastily excuses, and she glances back over her shoulder and catches sight of that white hair, those glasses, and she--   
   
She crawls into a bunk with Pike, who says nothing and rubs her back as Vax’s voice echoes throughout the bus, Keyleth’s name falling from his lips like a prayer.   
   
\--  
   
(She hears _ta, Percival,_ and her lungs shudder in her chest. Pike’s hand falters over her spine.  
   
_It’s tough,_ she whispers to Pike.   
   
_I know, honey._ )  
   
\--  
   
But _damn_ it _,_ Percy _likes_ her.   
   
He watches her performances on YouTube, sometimes of her concerts the day after she’s played them; he reads interviews the band has done, listens and listens again to their album. He has most, if not all, of their songs memorized.   
   
“I don’t get it,” Keyleth says one night as she re-pots one of his plants that she’s convinced is bored of its soil. “Why won’t you just _talk_ to her?”   
   
“Because she’s too good for me.”   
   
“Oh, Percy,” Keyleth tuts under her breath. “You _know_ that’s not true.”  
   
“I know no such thing,” he states immovably, keeping his eyes trained on the old radio he’s tinkering with.   
   
“You’re a good person.”  
   
“Perhaps, perhaps not.”  
   
“Okay, I take it back,” Keyleth huffs. “You’re _exasperating_.”  
   
Percy smiles. “That’s more like it.” He feels sort of bad, though, because he knows Keyleth is trying to help; he doesn’t want her to think he’s taking her for granted. “Look, Keyleth - it was easy for you and Vax, and that’s great. But I’m...struggling. And I don’t think she even - it’s been weeks, hasn’t it? She doesn’t fancy me like that.”   
   
“Vax and I aren’t dating,” Keyleth says bizarrely, undermining everything Percy has previously believed.   
   
“What?” he asks, craning his neck to look at her. Her expression is troubled and confused, but the flowers hold her gaze. “What do you mean?”   
   
“I mean we aren’t dating,” she repeats, straightening a bouquet. “He’s not into me like that.”  
   
“Keyleth,” Percy says slowly, fearing he’s entered an alternate reality, “that boy is _obsessed_ with you.”  
   
“He can have anyone he wants,” she reasons to herself aloud. “He’s a _rock star,_ Percy, he’s like - he’s just so cool, and I’m just me.”   
   
Percy’s stunned into silence, but there’s a deeper truth there, lingering underneath the absurdity of her words - he sees himself reflected in them, damaged and uncertain and afraid.   
   
Well, balls. Maybe this is what _he_ sounds like to _her_. Maybe it’s time he start leading by example.   
   
“You aren’t _just_ anything,” he says kindly, and Keyleth smiles brightly in response. “He’d be the luckiest person in the world if you chose to give him a chance.”   
   
She starts humming to herself as she tends to the rest of the flowers. Percy picks up his phone and texts--  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Hello._  
   
\--  
   
“Band meeting!” Vax yells as they approach a McDonald’s at two in the morning, somewhere in Vermont. They pile out of the bus, Vex clutching her phone tightly, Grog carrying Pike in on his back. He orders fifty nuggets between them and Vex knows he’ll eat about forty of them. They get five orders of fries and a couple Big Macs and hole up in a corner, even though the place is basically deserted.   
   
“So what’d he say?” Vax pokes her in the side, shoving fries in his mouth with his free hand.  
   
“‘Hello,’” Vex quotes, staring down at her phone.   
   
“Well, he’s clearly _thinking_ about you,” Pike points out, smothering her nuggets in honey mustard. “I mean, he’s had your number for awhile, right?”  
   
“According to Vax.”   
   
“Yep,” the boy supplies helpfully, still chewing.   
   
“So obviously he’s been holding onto it for whatever reason, like, debating whether or not to text you,” Pike rationalizes. “What are you so worried about?”  
   
“He’s _royalty,_ ” Vex says vehemently. “He’s a _movie star._ ”   
   
“ _You’re_ royalty, too,” Grog responds, and slurps loudly at his coke. “And you’re a _music_ star.”   
   
“What do I say?” Vex asks the group, having a mild internal crisis that nobody can quite decipher the cause of. Scanlan finally takes a stand, leaning over the table.  
   
He says, “I’ve got an idea.” He takes her phone and types something in before sliding it back to her with a shit-eating grin. She glances down.  
   
“‘Hey,’” she reads aloud.   
   
“It’s perfect,” Scanlan says. “Short, sweet, to the point.”  
   
She stares blankly at him. Vax laughs loudly, and even Pike stifles a grin.   
   
Grog says, “I like it.”  
   
When her expression doesn’t change, Scanlan sighs; well, he is the oldest of the group, after all, he claims, and he’s beyond petty dramatics. He says patiently, “Vex, just fucking say _hi._ Just be his friend - the poor guy, he always seems so _lonely._ What’s so terrifying about just being a friend?”   
   
She thinks of Saundor with his hand around her throat, spitting into her face about her cruelty and selfishness and worthlessness; Syldor and the disapproval etched into his face like age lines, his eyes unforgiving and cold; she thinks of the sting of rejection, of never, ever being good enough, or talented enough, or noble enough - _I know people with money and they are definitely not worth you--_  
   
_TO: Percival de Rolo_  
_hello_  
   
_TO: Percival de Rolo_  
_what do you think of this lyric - “and I swear that if I could, I’d rid my blood of you and give it back”_  
   
_FROM: Percival de Rolo_  
_I support the sentiment._  
   
_FROM: Percival de Rolo_  
_But I implore you to keep your blood where it is. You need it to live._  
   
“We’re good,” Vex declares to the table, and Grog celebrates by shoving five nuggets into his mouth at once.  
   
\--  
   
It’s as if he’s finally knocked down an imagined, previously thought to be impenetrable barrier just by saying hello; she texts him all the time - when she’s bored, when she’s excited, when she’s upset, when she’s inspired; for every reason, just because - and she’s so engaging and definitive within herself that he can’t help but be drawn to her. Sometimes he feels as if his own identity is a stone’s throw away from shattering entirely, like he isn’t always sure he’s all the things he pretends to be, but he feels more himself than ever when he’s talking to her, which comforts him and terrifies him equal amounts.   
   
( _3 days ago_  
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_i must say, i do quite prefer flying to driving. so much quicker. better views._  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Disagree. Depends on what you’re looking at, I think._  
   
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_the grand canyon._  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Ah, well, that would be a nice view._  
   
_2 days ago_  
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_how do you feel about dragons?_  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Well, I’m convinced that all mythology came from somewhere, with a basis in reality…_  
   
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_i feel as if i wouldn’t trust them._  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_You’d be one. A magnificent blue dragon hoarding treasure._  
   
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_does sound like me. too complimentary, percival, truly._  
   
_Yesterday, 4:05 AM_  
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_i can’t sleep. you should hear grog snore. maybe i’ll kill him just to shut him up._  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Dear, I think your talents are best left out of prison._  
   
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_did i wake you?_  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_I shall neither confirm nor deny, for fear of you stubbornly deciding I shan’t be texted in the wee hours of the morning._  
   
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_you flatter me. my every whim is meant to be answered. i expect nothing less from you._  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Oh, excellent, so we’re on the same page._ )  
   
Keyleth comes barging into his hotel room one evening in mid-April - they’re filming on location for the next month, somewhere just outside of Atlanta - and throws herself across his bed, her phone glowing in her hands.   
   
“Vax invited us to a concert,” she squeaks out, overcome with exhilaration. “It’s this weekend and we aren’t filming - Saturday night in New York!”   
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Your brother invited us to a show?_  
   
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_yes, i wasn’t supposed to ruin the surprise - are you going to come? :)_  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Do you want me to come?_  
   
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_don’t you want to see me rock out in-person, all american-like? it’s much more satisfying than a grainy youtube video_  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Well, with an offer like that._  
   
“That sounds wonderful,” Percy says agreeably, his stomach knotting and tensing at the very idea.   
   
“We get backstage passes and everything,” she informs him, almost trembling with anticipation. “Can you believe it?!”   
   
He can, actually, as they probably could’ve gotten them _anyway,_ seeing as who they _are -_ but it’s the same reason Keyleth is so refreshing; she’s always herself in her eyes, nothing more and nothing less, an awkward bumbling girl who prefers trees to people despite her gift of acting. He imagines she’s the type of person to win an Oscar and say, _oh, wow, I had no idea you guys felt this way about me,_ and it endears her to him all the more.  
   
Percy reaches for his laptop on his nightstand. “S’pose we should start booking tickets. Where are they playing, anyway?”   
   
“Terminal 5,” she says. “You’ve been to the city more than I have, so I’ll leave the planning to you, for once.”   
   
“Hang on.” Percy unlocks his phone again. “It’s probably best if we go through the official channels.” Keyleth hums noncommittally as Percy dials his agent.   
   
“ _Hey, Percy,_ ” the voice greets warmly after a few rings. “ _How’s the shoot so far?_ ”  
   
“Hello, Allura,” he responds, and Keyleth echoes his greeting in the background. “Going well, thanks, but I’m actually calling in regards to some personal business.”   
   
“ _Are you finally handing me a proper Hollywood scandal, Percival?_ ”  
   
He smiles. “Afraid not.”  
   
“ _An agent can dream._ ” She’s teasing him, he knows - if anything, he _is_ an agent’s dream and she’s well aware of it. “ _What’s up?_ ”  
   
“Keyleth and I have been invited to see Vox Machina in New York on Saturday night. I figured we’d spend the weekend.”  
   
“ _Oh? By who?”_  
   
“The band.”  
   
She laughs. “ _I approve. I can make this work - it’ll be good to have you seen out and about supporting other forms of art. Kima and I will take care of reservations for the two of you._ ”   
   
“And how’s Kima?” he asks, and not just out of politeness or obligation - he loves Kima and Allura, and it couldn’t have been better luck for him and Keyleth to have agents who are married to each other, considering whenever they do anything personal it’s usually together anyway. It makes it easy for their agents to coordinate.  
   
“ _She’s great. She’s going over a few releases about Keyleth’s upcoming movie - let Keyleth know that the early reviews are all overwhelmingly positive. I know she missed a few screenings already because of work.”_  
   
He brings the phone away from his mouth slightly. “Keyleth, you’re getting excellent reviews for _Aramente._ ”   
   
She rolls over, looking at him upside-down, her eyes bright. “Really?!”   
   
“Yes.”   
   
“Cool!” She stares dreamily at the ceiling for a moment. “That was a fun movie. That’s so cool.”   
   
“ _Anyway,”_ Allura continues, “ _I’ll send over your reservations and any pertinent info in a few._ ”  
   
“Fantastic. Much appreciated. Ta,” he says, and he hangs up.   
   
He and Keyleth relax in silence awhile longer, lounging on his bed - Allura sends him an email with a hotel reservation and options for flights, leaving that for Percy to book himself. They decide they’ll arrive Friday early evening, sparing the risk of any travel fatigue, and then they’ll have all day Saturday to do whatever they want.  
   
He forwards the itinerary to Vex, who texts him immediately.   
   
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_we’re at the same hotel and we arrive friday morning. you’ll spend the night out with us, won’t you, percival? we have a show that night but should be done by 10:30._  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_What are your plans after? We’d be honored_  
   
“Hey, Percy, we’ll go to Central Park, right? I mean, I love the city, but wouldn’t it be nice to have a picnic or something?” Keyleth interrupts his train of thought and he pauses typing for a moment, continuing the rest of the sentence distractedly.   
   
“Sure - if you don’t mind people possibly approaching us we can go to Sheep Meadow,” he allows, knowing Keyleth loves meeting fans, “or we can just walk along until we find an appropriate, somewhat secluded location. _And_ if the weather’s nice,” he adds as an afterthought, sending the message without realizing what he’s typed, which is--  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_What are your plans? We’d be honoured. I’m coming to see you, after all._  
   
_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_Just me in particular? ;)_  
   
“Oh, balls,” he says, blushing furiously down at the screen, Keyleth immediately takes notice and rolls back over to read his text, and then giggles cutely.   
   
“Freudian slip?” she sing-songs, and slides halfway off the bed, stretching her limbs.   
   
“That man was wrong about almost _everything_ after caving to pressure from his colleagues who didn’t like the findings of his research, and frankly it’s a sin he’s still used as an authority today at all,” Percy counters, but, well - the concept _does_ stand, in this case. He hovers inside of himself, at war. What to say, what to say.  
   
_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Technically, dear, yes._  
   
\--  
   
People take their picture in the lobby. Some fans are brave enough to approach them, and they sign autographs and smile for Snaps, Grog sticking his tongue out and Pike laughing, Vax and Vex with their peace signs, Scanlan in inappropriate poses. Gilmore checks them in and gets their keys, making sure everything’s in order, and they’re spread out among a nice suite on the thirty-second floor.   
   
Half of them decide to just crash immediately - they don’t really have plans until their show in a few hours - and Pike curls up next to Vex in one of the bedrooms, whispering animatedly.  
   
“Don’t make fun of me,” she starts ranting, “but I’m _really_ excited to meet them. They’re _amazing_ actors! Everyone’s saying they’re gonna get nominated for Oscars - apparently that new movie Keyleth’s in is like, mind-blowing - and Percival’s definitely winning for _Whispers._ Ugh. And he’s like - I mean, come on, Vex. He’s _hot._ ”   
   
Vex snickers into her arms, stretched out on her stomach. “He has a nice face, I’m not disagreeing with you there.”   
   
Pike raises herself onto her elbows. “No, like, _everywhere_ on that boy is nice. He’s a mechanic for fun - I read that in an interview, and he was shirtless in _Whispers_ \- he’s _ripped,_ Vex.”  
   
This information sinks in slowly, because Vex can’t reconcile his slenderness with _muscle,_ but Pike’s already on her phone, searching for the proof. She makes a noise of victory in her throat, shoving the device towards Vex. “ _Look._ ”  
   
“Holy shit,” Vex says, her eyes widening, neck snapping up. “What the bloody--”  
   
“I told you.”  
   
“Hells,” she says, not quite able to comprehend what she’s seeing. “Christ. Wow.”   
   
It’s just a simple still from the movie - she resolves right then and there to watch it as soon as possible - but he’s standing in a shop, shirtless, covered in soot, and Pike had _not_ been fucking around - he is...extremely well-defined, to say the least. Chiseled, rugged. She imagines touching him, feeling his body against hers--  
   
Pike tells her, “I wouldn’t kick him out of bed, is all I’m saying.”  
   
“Erm, yeah.”   
   
“I wouldn’t kick you out of bed either, though, Vex, just so you know.”  
   
Vex winks at her. “Oh, I’m aware, darling, as you’ve had many opportunities to do so.”  
   
Pike digs her fingers into Vex’s side, laughing as she tickles her; Vex squeals, slapping her hands away--  
   
\--  
   
(“Girls,” Grog says, shaking his head, as he and Vax prepare to leave for lunch.  
   
“That’s sexist, Grog, they’re just having fun,” Vax points out. “Nothing wrong with that.”  
   
“Oh, sorry,” Grog says, genuinely apologetic. “I thought that was just something people said.”)  
   
\--  
   
Percy and Keyleth don’t have an eventful journey aside from the usual paparazzi catching them at the airport and groups of fans clamoring around them at the gate, but they’re in first class on the plane, and there’s a private car waiting to take them to the hotel when they land.  
   
They step out by themselves for a late lunch, knowing their dinner won’t be until after the band’s show is over; they split a nice bottle of wine at an Italian place Keyleth had picked around the corner. They’re mostly safe from photographers, though Percy’s sure a few random patrons have snapped some pictures under-the-table. Well, it goes with the territory.   
   
After that, Keyleth’s too wired to go back to the hotel and drags him into a bar down the street with a semi-private back room; they sit at a booth and drink jalapeno margaritas, and throughout the night fans approach, asking for pictures and autographs. They oblige every time; Keyleth’s thrilled by it, honored, like she’s being given some incredible opportunity. It’s unbearably sweet.  
   
By the time they meet the band in the lobby - the first time Percy’s seen them all together, up-close, and _boy_ are they an intimidating group - they’re showered, fresh, and dressed for camouflage. It’s easy to blend in the city, fortunately, though Grog probably causes a stir everywhere and Percy’s hair is a dead giveaway, but he’s wearing a beanie whereas Grog’s just - a giant. All the time. Well, it is what it is.  
   
There’s Vex again, standing in front, even more beautiful than he remembers even though she’s dressed casually in ripped jeans and a tank and hoodie; she smiles widely at him and steps forward--  
   
Keyleth goes flying into Vax’s arms, startling him; he lifts her up and spins her around once, beaming. “Vax!” she exclaims. “It’s so good to see you! How was the show?!”  
   
“You too, Kiki, and it was great!” He grins back at her. “Here, meet everyone, come on - Percival, great to see you as well--”  
   
“Cheers,” Percy answers, glancing at Pike and smiling. “Hello, I’m Percival Von Mu--”  
   
“You can call him Percy,” Keyleth interrupts customarily, waving a hand again.   
   
Vax wraps an arm around him and grinds a hand against his hair. “You’re famous and shit, Percival!” he proclaims, and Percy laughs despite himself. “They know who you are.”  
   
Vax lets go of him and continues the introductions; Vex approaches him and gives him a warm hug, her arms encircling his neck, her body against his - it’s brief, too brief, and he barely has the time to process the way it makes him feel before she lets him go. Upon releasing him, a phone is suddenly shoved into his face as she says, “Look, you and Keyleth are having a lovely romantic getaway this weekend.”   
   
Sure enough, there’s an article open on some gossip website with pictures of the two of them at the airport earlier that afternoon, deep in conversation. Percy grimaces. “They’re determined to push that angle. Apparently we have an active fanbase.”   
   
“We do,” Keyleth pipes up. “Some of the blogs are really pretty.”   
   
“She follows them,” Percy supplies.  
   
“They’re really nice to us.”   
   
Pike giggles nervously as she leans up to hug Keyleth in greeting; the blush on her cheeks doesn’t hide well. “I follow blogs dedicated to us, too. It’s fun.”   
   
“So, shall we?” Scanlan asks, and extends his arm to Pike. “My lady?”   
   
“Oh, thanks, Scanlan, but I’m already holding someone’s hand,” she says, holding back a smirk as she places her small fingers in Grog’s, who barely notices. Scanlan moves on with a fake sigh and a rejection he’s clearly used to, so Percy doesn’t bother feeling bad for him.  
   
\--  
   
They have dinner at a small, hole-in-the-wall burger joint in the Village - the type that New York is famous for - and it’s actually the best burger he’s ever had in his life. She sits next to him in the booth, her boots kicked out under the table, back of her hand pressed up to her mouth when she laughs. Their thighs brush, they knock elbows. He thinks about turning and kissing her and citing the small space. Sorry, he imagines saying, I just ran out of room.   
   
They have ciders and rate them against European ones. She’d love to live in a small town around the English countryside, she divulges; somewhere with space and sky and woods. Keyleth agrees, raising her glass. Percy says, without thinking twice, Yes, I’d probably like that.   
   
If she notices, she doesn’t respond; she offers a fry to Pike and smacks Grog’s hand away from stealing it.   
   
\--  
   
Vex wants to go clubbing. She _misses_ clubbing, dancing, that escape of alcohol and pounding beats. Percy shifts next to her, his arms flexing, the muscle prominent underneath; she wants him all over her, the sweat of his body under colored strobe lights. She wants him and she wants to not think about anything else anymore, not Saundor or Syldor and their sharp, cutting words. He smiles shyly and pays the bill before anyone even knows the bill has come.   
   
Vax invites Percy and Keyleth back to their suite to hang out and drink; Vex’s body trembles. As much as she’d love to dance - well, fame has its downsides. Perhaps not tonight. And she’s made it so long without slipping back into her old habits.  
   
Keyleth accepts for them - Percy doesn’t react at all, but he seems to appreciate her enthusiasm; Vex can tell it’s important to him than Keyleth is happy. She finds that overwhelmingly sweet and the sudden urge to fuck it out of him entirely hits her like a gunshot. Pike gives her a knowing look and mouths, _I know._  
   
Gilmore’s out with his own friends - that man has contacts _everywhere_ \- and they crack open the hard liquor and beer, playing music over the stereo system and talking. Grog and Keyleth, in the showdown of the century, have the shotgunning contest they should’ve had at after party - Pike roots for Grog out of loyalty, to which Vax raises a finger and chants Keyleth’s name even louder; and then--  
   
Keyleth loses by a _split_ second, something Grog is genuinely impressed by, and gives her a high five. Considering his method of drinking involves unhinging his jaw like a snake and widening his throat until he can just pour alcohol down it without swallowing - or at least, that’s how Scanlan describes it - it’s amazing Keyleth finished as closely as she did.  
   
Vax and Scanlan take turns selecting songs, trying to find music that appeals to Percy, who they treat as some sort of toddler, giving him about a minute of each song and asking - very slowly - if he liked it or not, before selecting a new one and doing the same thing all over again.   
   
By the end of it, Percy has a few new artists he’s apparently a fan of - Tunng has a good song, and he’s into the electronica vibe of CHVRCHES; Hozier, he says, sounds like who he’d be if he made music, and then a few classic rock bands - and then people start drifting off one at a time, slowly. Pike smiles apologetically and says, “Being on the road’s just tiring - but you don’t have to leave! Stay, it’s cool, we can sleep through anything.”  
   
“Stay,” Vex says, and so he does.   
   
\--  
   
They’re playing music at a softer volume and they’re the only two left.   
   
Vex stands at the window, looking out at the lit-up square below, the recklessness of cars, the people running like little dots on the sidewalk. Percy’s next to her, leaning on the window seat, also staring out. It’s slightly rainy and the clouds hang low.   
   
“I wanted to go clubbing,” she confesses, though she’s not sure what she’s confessing to. “Don’t you ever miss doing things you used to be able to do before you were famous? Things that made you feel...better. Freer.”  
   
“It’s been awhile since I’ve been a commoner,” he responds mildly, sounding sort of like a pompous asshole, but she gets what he means. He’s talking about the accident. Americans love the royal family, so they’ve known about him for ages; she imagines there aren’t many places he’s able to run to for relief and anonymity. “I’ve found comfort in other things. Mechanics.”  
   
“It would,” she says, and nothing else.  
   
“Clubbing, huh?” he repeats, and now he’s looking at her; she shivers without knowing why. “I can’t say I’ve ever been clubbing.”   
   
She smiles, pressing her hands against the glass. “I can’t say that answer surprises me.”   
   
“Am I not the type?”  
   
“Not really, darling, no.” But she’s teasing, tone playful and light. She sees him stand out of the corner of her eye, but he’s facing her, no longer using the scenery as a pretense.  
   
“See,” Percy says, talking about something else entirely, “this is a nice view.”  
   
“We’re on the thirty-second floor,” she points out, not fully understanding. “I think you’re fighting your own argument.”  
   
“Well, not exactly, as the view I’m referencing is in front of me.”   
   
He’s so plainly forthcoming at that moment that it stuns her; it’s his version of flirting, she realizes, and she takes it in--  
   
The light is soft, dim. Keyleth had lit a few candles, because she’s the type to light candles. Percy’s in a plain white t-shirt and black jeans, his hair ruffled and boyish, his stare sincere but bashful. Her phone’s plugged into the sound system on shuffle, and her music is low, slow, gyrating. They’re alone. She wants to devour him, fuck him until she forgets the names of her demons, until he no longer feels the torment of his own.  
   
In a bold move, because it’s two in the morning, because she’s a little drunk, because it’s New York - she takes one of his hands and slides in front of him, pressing him back against the window, his entire body flush to hers.   
   
“So, Percival,” she murmurs, and she’s well aware of how turned on she sounds, “you’ve never danced?”  
   
His eyes flicker like blackness seeps into him; smoke is rising from his skin. The heat burns between them. “Like this?” He says, and she’s pleased to hear his voice shake. “Never.”  
   
She smiles with a dangerous flash of teeth. “Good.”  
   
\--  
   
So, what they’re doing is definitely not dancing.   
   
She guides his hands to her hips, knowing he won’t move first without permission; her palms splay against his chest, and she’s humming the melody playing low in her throat. He can feel her breathing, the way her body sticks to him, her chest rising and falling; he’s caught up, overcome--  
   
She sways slowly, almost grinding against him; he bites the inside of his lip on instinct, looking down at her, eyelids heavy. She’s still fucking _smirking_ , and her hands drift up, over his shoulders, around his neck; she finally shifts her gaze up and locks eyes with him, now quietly singing the words - he’s momentarily distracted by it, because how many people get to hear her _sing_ without a stage, and her voice is sultry and gorgeous and _hot_ \- and then he comprehends the lyrics--  
   
_When you say it like that…_  
   
His fingers curl around her hips; she drops her stare to his mouth and continues, “Let me fuck you right back,” and he about faints right there.   
   
“Oh, holy shit,” he breathes out.   
   
“Something wrong, dear?” she asks, and her tone is low and teasing, knowing exactly what she’s doing to him.   
   
But he’s still drunk, too, and reservations aren’t exactly something he has the time or willpower to manage. “This isn’t music to dance to,” he says, and she laughs once, throatily.   
   
“No,” she agrees, still slowly grinding against him. “It’s music to have sex to.”   
   
His mouth is dry and all the flashing city lights are suddenly in the room with them. “I should’ve known,” he says, and pulls her tight against him. The smirk is suddenly gone from her face. “Only you would seduce someone with a song that isn’t even your own.”   
   
They’re too close, it’s too dark, she’s going to fuck him here in a suite with four other sleeping people and he’s going to enjoy it and beg her for more; he cycles through the coming events in his mind and sees absolutely no issue with any of it. He’s already underneath her and she can do whatever she wants to him.  
   
She presses her fingers against his cheek, guiding the tilt of his head, and she leans up--  
   
They hear the unmistakable sound of the door opening and someone’s voice rings from the doorway, “Vex, darling, I know how pretty he is, but unless you’re inviting _me_ to join, perhaps you should drag poor Percival off to somewhere private before you eat him alive, hm?”   
   
\--  
   
_Fucking_ Gilmore.  
   
She’s fuming and turned on and it’s a horrible combination - Percy is actively averting his eyes from her, his hands now back against the window seat, holding himself up - and in an almost cruel fit of denial, she slides slowly back onto her feet, pressing her hips carefully against his until he’s again biting his lip, now burning red.   
   
Gilmore heads off to bed, leaving them there, knowing he’s ruined whatever was about to happen in the suite’s living room and satisfied with it. She’s going to have a talk with him tomorrow. _Fuck_ him, that fucking asshole, and fuck _Vax_ for so long ago declaring him enough of family that he shares their rooms.  
   
“Percy.” She needs him to look at her. She needs him addicted to whatever she’s planning next, anxiously awaiting her every move, his nerves standing on the precipice. He carefully glances down at her - he’s restraining himself again, _Gods,_ she hates that, she was so close to unraveling him entirely - and she says dangerously, “This isn’t over.”  
   
He seems almost amused at her tone and choice of words. “Is that a threat?”   
   
“Yes.” Her mouth curls into a half-smirk, a remnant of what they almost did. “I’m going to fuck this sweet, sad boy act out of you. Who are you _really,_ Percival?”   
   
He shivers against her, his lips parting in a harsh inhale, exhale. “At this moment, I’m not sure _I_ even know,” he answers unsteadily, pupils blown wide.   
   
“Good.” She pushes off his chest, grinning broadly. He stands there unmoving, the shock and arousal still filling his veins instead of blood. He stares unblinkingly, swallowing once.   
   
She backs away. “Sleep well,” she says airily, and heads into her room.   
   
\--  
   
(She leans against the door and whispers, “Fuck.”   
   
“Vex?” A voice mumbles sleepily. “Is that you?”  
   
“Yes, Pike, it’s me,” she hisses back, waiting for the telltale sound of Percy running from their room, which comes a few moments later when the door slams. Pike sits up in bed; Vex can see her hazy outline.   
   
“What happened?” She asks, rubbing her eyes. “Was that Percy who just left?”   
   
“Yes.”  
   
“Wait.” Pike’s staring in her direction. “Why aren’t you with him?”   
   
Vex grimaces, knocking her head back against the wood. “Gilmore interrupted us.”  
   
The girl gasps. “Like _while_ you were doing him?!”   
   
Vex laughs at that and then sighs, moving to throw herself across the bed. “Gods, Pike, no,” she says, an arm over her forehead. “We were - dancing. Sort of.”  
   
Pike rubs a hand over her stomach comfortingly. “Aw, Vex, it’s okay. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances. I mean, come on, who’s gonna resist _you_? I would never.”   
   
“Thanks, dear.”  
   
“Anytime.”)  
   
\--  
   
“And then she said--” he breaks off, blushing horribly, and then quotes, “‘I’m going to fuck that sweet, sad boy act out of you,’” and Keyleth’s head whips around the curtain, mouth agape, soap still lathered in her hair.   
   
“No _way,_ ” she says, shocked and a little appreciative. “Damn, Percy, that’s _hot._ ”  
   
“I know,” he says. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Forgive me for being a little traditional, but I _do_ genuinely like her.”  
   
“And that’s a problem _why_?” Keyleth asks, disappearing again. “She nailed you, didn’t she? Wow.” She snickers to herself and he hears her repeat, “Sweet, sad boy act…”   
   
“It’s not an act,” he says, mostly faking affrontement. “Am I not sweet?”  
   
“Sure, sure,” Keyleth answers. He hears a bottle hit the floor and a small squeak of surprise before she continues speaking. “You’re nice, Percy, but you come off a lot nicer than you are. You can be cruel and cold when you want to be, or to people you don’t trust - and you don’t trust _anyone._ You’re...distant, I guess, is the word. From everything.”  
   
He frowns; she’s not wrong there. “I trust _you,_ ” he points out, defiant. He hadn’t really viewed it as an _act,_ though, but maybe he’s putting himself on subconsciously. “Semantics.”  
   
“I’m rolling my eyes.”  
   
“Anyway. I’m saying I _like_ her,” he says again. “What if she’s merely - into the idea of sleeping with me and that’s it?”   
   
Keyleth’s head pokes out of the curtain again. “Percy,” she says exasperatedly, “have you even _looked_ at Vex? She could have anyone she wants; she’s like, beautiful. Some guy once threw a _five-thousand_ dollar engagement ring on stage and proposed to her. She said no and kept the ring. Hell,” Keyleth adds as an afterthought and ignoring Percy’s jaw on the floor, “ _I’d_ date Vex.”  
   
“Stick to Vax,” Percy says, still recovering from the _bizarrely sexy_ idea of Vex rejecting some man and keeping his money but somehow wanting _Percy._ “I can’t compete with you.”  
   
Keyleth laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, shutting the water off, “she’s only got eyes for you anyway.”   
   
Percy resumes washing his face. “Well,” he says, and that’s really all there is to it.    
   
\--  
   
Gilmore forbids them from going to boozy brunch - “It’s meant for Sundays,” he reasons with them, “and you’ve a show tonight,” - so they resort to normal brunch, though Grog and Pike are determined to sneak a mimosa; drinking always cures his hangovers and Pike’s desperately in need of relief for hers. Keyleth and Percy meet them in the lobby, Percy wearing sunglasses and looking a little more disheveled than usual, whereas Keyleth--  
   
“Fuck,” Vex whispers to Vax, “does she _always_ look this flawless? What the fuck, honestly.”   
   
“Keyleth, you are _hot,_ ” Grog says randomly from behind them, and Vax bumps his arm.   
   
“Don’t objectify women, Grog, just tell her she looks nice,” he instructs, and Grog glances at her apologetically.  
   
“Oh, sorry,” he says genuinely. “You look real nice, Keyleth.”  
   
She laughs good-naturedly. “Thanks, Grog, you look pretty handsome yourself.”   
   
“She called me handsome,” he murmurs to Pike, his smile huge; she pats his arm and nods.   
   
“Competition,” Vex hisses at Vax again, grinning. So, Keyleth isn’t the most charismatic of people, but something about her is undeniably entrancing; she’s not just beautiful. She’s the most honest person he’s ever met; she doesn’t care about her image because she’s intrinsically so _good_ it doesn’t even occur to her that she might be projecting the wrong one. There’s no way he’s letting go of that after years and years of everyone _expecting_ something of him.  
   
“Kiki,” he says, falling into stride next to her; she links arms with him automatically and he turns to quickly stick his tongue out at Vex - who now, of course, only has eyes for Percy.   
   
Whatever; more material for him, at least. If she’s going to tease him endlessly, she’s going to get it back twice as good.   
   
Keyleth smiles at him and says, “I had a great time last night. Percy and I never go out like that. It’s cool to have such a big group of people.”   
   
“They’re family,” Vax responds and shrugs. “It was fun to have you with us - we see each other every day, you know, so...I liked having you there.”  
   
“Yeah?” she asks nervously, as if she really needs the statement reconfirmed.  
   
“I like having you here _now_ ,” he tells her, his blood swirling around his heart at the sight of her slight blush. “Honestly, Keyleth, I do.”  
   
“I’m happy to hear that,” is all she says, her eyes solidly watching the street ahead, but her fingers clutch his arm a little tighter.  
   
\--  
   
(“Percival,” Vex greets warmly as he approaches, Keyleth now preoccupying her brother. “And how are we this morning?”   
   
He takes his sunglasses off, wincing slightly at the light. “I’ve been better.”  
   
Her lips twist up; her eyes are hungry and dark. She traps him like a snare. His heart thumps in his chest, his ribcage rattling.  
   
He wants to fuck the smirk off of her face. So, maybe she’s a _little_ right about him.)  
   
\--  
   
Grog and Pike order mimosas before Gilmore can stop them; he waves a hand as if to say, _it’s your head._ They high-five across the table. Keyleth laughs and absorbs Pike in conversation about where she learned to play piano; Vax just stares, nodding along, contributing here and there but mostly content to watch; finally she turns the question on him, and he says, “I learned it to impress you,” but he’s grinning, a little snarky.   
   
She takes it in stride. “Shut up, no you didn’t,” she huffs, but she’s smiling. “Tell me the _truth._ ”  
   
Ah, the truth, well--  
   
“My mother was very musically inclined,” Vax says, surprising even himself at his honesty. Vex quiets, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. Grog, Scanlan, and Pike are now involved in a discussion on breakfast burritos and where to draw the line on ingredients, and don’t pay any attention. “Fortunately, it was a skill she passed onto us.”   
   
“That’s nice that you have that now,” Keyleth says, and reveals herself to be more perceptive than they’d previously thought when she adds, “It’s nice to have something that keeps the people you love alive.”   
   
It’s _almost_ tactless - they’re at brunch and it isn’t information Vax had _quite_ gotten around to divulging - but she isn’t fully speaking about them and their mother, and it’s what calms him, what keeps Vex from snapping. Loss can recognize loss, and Keyleth’s far-off look, her gentle, sad smile…  
   
“You understand,” Vex states, seeking confirmation before being open; it’s not a topic the twins are normally forthcoming about.   
   
“My mother left when I was young,” Keyleth says, very matter-of-fact. “She’s been declared dead - it’s been so long. She left for a business trip and she never came back.” Off of their stunned looks, she rectifies, “Oh, but not like that! Not like she - ran off, or something. It was supposed to be a week-long work trip; she used to take them all the time. That’s, ah…” she wrings her hands nervously. “That’s all. So I just meant - I know how you feel.”  
   
Vax puts his fingers over hers, intertwining them. “Thanks, Kiki. And we’re sorry.”  
   
She sort of shrugs uncomfortably, pressing on, locking eyes with Percy--  
   
“Well,” the boy suddenly says off-handedly, leaning back, “almost my whole family is dead, so I’m not one for sympathy.”  
   
Vex lets out a startled laugh and looks horrified; she covers her mouth hurriedly, but Keyleth giggles openly. Percy’s mouth is in a wry half-smirk.   
   
“You can laugh,” he says, and his head falls against the booth, his eyes fluttering closed. “It’s already going to hurt forever, so you might as well laugh when it strikes you.”   
   
Somewhere on the other end of the table, Grog is pouring an entire bottle of hot sauce on his burrito and Scanlan’s eating a raw chili pepper for a challenge; Pike is grinning while Gilmore shakes his head. Vex says, “We all have our crosses to bear, I suppose.”  
   
“I’m not surprised.” Percy’s head tilts, following Vex’s stare. “Tortured artists. It’s so predictable it’s almost boring.”  
   
Vax raises his glass. “Cheers, Percival.”  
   
He supposes in some ways, it truly is the perfect phrase to describe what they are.   
   
\--  
   
(They go to Central Park for Keyleth, who Vex is pretty sure may actually die if she’s away from nature for too long, and lounge around Sheep Meadow until they start getting recognized. It doesn’t help that Pike keeps Snapping, either, so everyone in the Manhattan area definitely knows where they are. They’re careful not to post anything of the _actual famous actors_ until they’ve left, though, in order to deter the paparazzi, who don’t care for indie bands as much.  
   
Vex takes a pic of Percy as he drifts off under the sun for a little while, and Keyleth says, “He didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” with a cute grin that Vex is sure is supposed to be a smirk.   
   
Vex shows her how it’s _really_ done and answers, “I can’t imagine why.”)  
   
\--  
   
The show starts at eight, with a band Percy’s never heard of (shocker) opening for them called _Chroma Conclave_. It’s the first night of their leg of the tour - they’ll be opening for another month of shows - and Vex tells him privately that they actually hate the band’s music, but it’s a publicity thing and they can’t do anything to stop it. He’s familiar with the act of having to play nice with difficult talent.  
   
He and Keyleth are upstairs in the VIP area - it’s tables and bar service looking down on the stage - and they get a few ciders and relax for the opening act, not paying too much attention. Internally, he agrees with Vex: they’re _awful,_ more like metal than rock, but the crowd seems to be into it to a degree, at least. He watches fans hover around the merch table and thinks about buying a shirt as a joke; Keyleth’s almost definitely going to do it seriously.  
   
By the time _their_ band is about to take the stage, Keyleth’s had three ciders and she’s buzzing; Percy’s trying to keep a leveler head. The lights go out, the crowd screams, the neon signs flash; in the chaos of it all he sees them quietly settle into their instruments before--  
   
Vex’s voice, as beautiful and sexy as it was when it was only him and her the night before comes echoing around his skull; he recognizes it immediately as their second single - _well, I’ve got a story about how you left me for dead, I told you I loved you and never saw you again, now when I dream about you I hear it’s all in your head, all in your head._  
   
“Babe, you’ve got me thinking I’m fucking crazy,” he sings under his breath, because he can’t help himself, because she’s entrancing and their music is _good._ Fortunately Keyleth is doing the same thing, only she’s singing all of the words and at a much louder volume.   
   
Scanlan harmonizes with her nicely, subtly, not taking the song away from her but enhancing it - the title is _Demons_ and he adds a haunting quality to it, like a dark vibration underneath the edges.  
   
And then Percy realizes she’s playing the _bass._  
   
He is inexplicably, instantaneously turned on - watching her fingers move, her lips curving around the words, the way she holds the melody in her mouth - her eyes dart up, searching for his, and he sees her smile flicker. Maybe it’s only a trick of the light.   
   
Keyleth turns toward him and screams, “She is so fucking _hot!_ ”  
   
Finally letting go, he answers “I know” with a smile, and it’s the lightest Keyleth has seen him in years.  
   
\--  
   
(The show is electric; the crowd can’t get enough and neither can Vex. She loves this. She loves the bright lights and the fans singing and the music burning up her skin; Vax is shredding next to her and Grog’s hammering the drums and Pike’s holding them all together, her notes a solid through-line.  
   
And Percy - through the blinding flashes she finds his white hair and his unrestrained smile, Keyleth’s arm around his shoulders--  
   
_I’m not running out of time, babe, and you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna be mine._  
   
She’s singing to him now, but one day soon, she won’t need to.)  
   
\--  
   
They head backstage just before the end of the set to avoid the crowd, still wrapped up in the band’s final song; Keyleth sways on her feet and keeps singing, watching from the wings. Percy’s drawn more to technique from this angle - the deftness of Scanlan’s fingers on the guitar (he’s picked up about four different instruments tonight so far), the way Pike plays with her eyes closed, Grog’s ferocity fading and swelling in beat with the music - they’re well-trained, incredibly in sync with each other. It’s a pleasure just to witness.  
   
The song ends, the crowd screams, the room is suddenly drenched in darkness - the band stumbles their way to the wings through the dimness of the stage, tripping over each other and laughing; Keyleth cheers with the rest of the fans as the lights flash on again for the encore, bright neon colors. Vax finds her eyes amidst the chaos, as if she’s the pull to a compass, and as he gets closer she yells, “Vax, that was _ama--_ ” before he takes her face in his hands and kisses her.  
   
The rest of the band stops in their tracks, the roar of the crowd quieting to a dull hum in their ears at the sight in front of them; Vex’s lips are parted in a very subtle jaw-drop, and Percy can only stare, caught up in a moment that isn’t his but could be--  
   
Vex’s lips are parted, and Percy can only stare; what if she had seen him first, what if she were standing in front of him smiling, disheveled, sweating after a show and the pressure of burning stage lights; what if he were healthier, assured, _better_ \--  
   
\--  
   
(Keyleth has never been kissed like this in her entire life - she’s never even been _kissed_ , not really, only for work or projects or an elementary-school dare - the softness and the intensity of it overwhelms her, his palms cupping her cheeks, her fingers automatically reaching up to curl around his wrists--  
   
He pulls away, his eyes shining, his smile gentle and apologetic; his hands stroke down her jaw, her neck. He says, _You know I’m in love with you, right?_  
   
She can only look on, dazed, buzzing, those neon lights filling up her heart and her skin is where she wants him to write his songs; she licks her lips and tastes salt, electricity, copper, music. She doesn’t speak. He backs away from her, his arms dropping, and suddenly she’s missing something she wasn’t missing before.)   
   
\--  
   
Vex is hit with the truth.   
   
Vax kisses Keyleth and it’s so _uncomplicated;_ he loves her, he’s in love with her, he’s been in love with her. He doesn’t think twice, he doesn’t put himself on, he doesn’t try to be anybody he isn’t to make himself worthy of giving love, or receiving love. It’s so easy and pure and genuine and _nothing_ like her, but like all the things she wishes she could be.  
   
She meets Percy’s eyes and sees the longing in him, clouded over with a self-doubt she recognizes all too well. He must notice the mirror in her, as well, because after a moment he gives her a sad, resigned sort of smile.   
   
There is nothing uncomplicated about her and Percy.  
   
\--  
   
“I’m sorry.” Vax apologizes immediately after the encore. Well, he’s not, but he is. He should have asked, or set the mood a little better, or - anything, really. “Do you think we can go and - talk, somewhere?”  
   
Keyleth stutters over herself, seeming a bit like a frightened wild animal, but not in a caged or trapped way - just an inexperienced one. She squeaks out, “Sure,” and her attention is far too occupied to even remember Percy exists.  
   
Vax leads her into one of the now-empty rooms backstage, and before she can get another word out, he picks up a gift bag from the couch and extends it to her.   
   
“I actually had plans,” he says, abashed. “I was going to give you that--” _That_ happens to be a collection of every band shirt they’d had on sale that night, and a few very early designs that aren’t in production anymore, “--and hopefully charm you with a joke about how you may be our biggest fan, but I’m yours. No competition.”   
   
She skids her teeth across her bottom lip, digging in. Her cheeks are flushed and red, her blood on high. She’s never done this before. “I, uh--”  
   
“You don’t have to say anything.” Vax’s eyes drop. “I shouldn’t have cornered you the way I did. I was just - overwhelmed, seeing you standing there, so happy and excited and - I don’t know. You were too beautiful.”   
   
“Okay, stop,” she breathes out, shaking with the hammering of her heart; he’s always felt so far away to her, but here he is now, plain and forthcoming and baring his soul in front of her. “You - look, I’m just - I’m not good at this.”   
   
“I know.” He keeps a careful distance from her. “It’s okay, Kiki.”   
   
She says, “I do like you.” There’s no reason not to confess. “I’m not used to - feeling this way about...people. It’s…” She struggles for meaning, nervously playing with a ring on her finger. “It’s just different, and I don’t know what to do, but I do like you.”  
   
“Do you want time?” he says, clinging to the spark of hope she’s given him. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I’d never...push you into something you weren’t ready for. You must know how important you are to me, Keyleth.”  
   
She steps forward, reaching for his hand, and presses a delicate kiss to his cheek; he resists the urge to hold onto her and she resists the urge to ask him to.   
   
“Yeah,” she whispers. “A little time.”    
   
\--

  
(Years from now, Keyleth will look back and remember Vax’s grin under the glow of the stage lights, her fingers burning their prints into his back, his lips against hers with an intimacy far too deep for her to comprehend at the time; he’ll laugh into her hair, curled next to her in bed, and say _Yeah, you totally loved me._ )  
   
\--  
   
They trudge back upstairs to the bar and they all get fucked up; Vax and Keyleth keep a polite distance apart, but not uncomfortably so. Vex says she needs the image of them kissing erased from her brain, but internally she hears Saundor’s voice, _you’re selfish, Vex’ahlia, and care for nobody but yourself, reckless with no regard for the wellbeing of others_ ; Percy sits next to Pike and answers questions dutifully about his upcoming films, who he’s liked acting with the most, who’s been the biggest asshole, and, (secretly), who’s his favorite member of the band.  
   
She winks, and he rolls his eyes; “Oh, you know.”   
   
Vex takes another shot. He’s not sure if she’d heard or not.  
   
\--  
   
They’re all hammered by the time they return to the hotel, but the band’s wired as they always are after a show and Keyleth’s energy is endless; none of them want the night to end. Grog herds them back up the suite, laughing as they stumble and trip over each other, and Percy rationalizes that it must be Grog’s size keeping him upright, certainly _not_ that the rest of them are lightweights. Grog grins but keeps his mouth shut, humoring him.   
   
Scanlan starts some sort of card game that has them all screaming over each other - Percy is the first to be out, followed by Vex, who curses at the rest of them for show - but when she gets up from the table, Percy spots that shadow of sadness again, that flimsy mask. She catches his eye and she knows.   
   
She approaches him and says quietly, “Feel like stepping out on the balcony for a bit?”   
   
He nods once and follows her out. Nobody else pays them any mind, too absorbed in their game; as he slides the glass door closed behind him, he hears Pike scream, “You _fucking_ cheater, Scanlan!”   
   
The air is cool and damp; Vex leans against the railing and sags heavily, finally allowing the tension she’s been carrying to hold its full weight. She looks exhausted. She doesn’t glance at him when she says, “We need to talk.”   
   
“Yes.” Percy’s voice is almost lost among the clouds. “We do.”   
   
“You saw it too,” she states, keeping her eyes trained on the flashing lights below. “How...how _simple_ it was.”   
   
“I did,” Percy says. “But for what it’s worth, I never thought this would be simple.”   
   
She smiles without substance, like the skeleton of a feeling. “No?”   
   
“Vex, _look_ at me,” he points out tiredly, running a hand through his hair. “I come with a lot of baggage.”   
   
“So do I.” She licks her lips, pausing. “I thought it was just me. When we started this. I thought it was just me.”   
   
The silence settles over them; everything is muted from where they are, the colors, the bright lights, the honking horns. He curls his fingers around the railing and squeezes. “Maybe we should try to be honest with one another.” It’s an uncomfortable topic to bridge. He attempts a semblance of humor. “I know you saw right through me.”   
   
“I recognized the patterns, yes,” she says.  
   
“I’m barely hanging on,” he continues blithely, shutting down the part of his voice that conveys any depth to true emotion. It’s difficult enough as it is. “I’m being treated. I spent a lot of time being nothing, being everything, being whatever wasn’t me with this life. I’m working on it.”   
   
“That’s a good start,” she says, and crooks her head towards him without meeting his eyes like a silent acceptance, “because I rather like you. The you underneath all of this. And I’m - I’ve had a long recovery. Having. A long recovery.”   
   
“I almost died,” he drops point-blank.   
   
Vex waits a moment, staring at the whiteness of Percy’s knuckles, the tensity of his muscles coiling like a spring beneath his skin. “I almost died,” she echoes back, the carefree shouting of her friends behind her like a sick soundtrack to the tragedy of their lives.   
   
He turns toward her, suddenly releasing himself. “What?”   
   
“Surely you don’t believe you’ve the monopoly on horror stories,” she says wryly, and he flushes.   
   
“That’s not what I meant, of course,” he responds politely. “Near-death experiences are rare.”   
   
She leans forward onto her elbows, hunched further over the railing. A year and a half ago, she might have thrown herself off of it. “I had a boyfriend,” she says, but the sound coats itself against her throat when she tries to explain further, like rubbing sand between her palms, coarse and raw.   
   
He seems to understand just fine. “Oh,” he says quietly.   
   
“I’m trying, too,” she says, and finally stands tall, facing him straight on. He isn’t surprised by the sudden feverishness, but proud, almost. “I’m this now because I couldn’t be for so long. I think it’s the truth. I want to believe I’m putting on the truth, but sometimes I remember what I was like, and I don’t know.”   
   
“You aren’t what you were made into,” Percy says, as if he’s reading her thoughts and pulling out exactly the right words to tell her in response. “It’s possible to have spent as long as you did as someone perceived to be without strength, but that doesn’t mean you don’t possess it now, Vex’ahlia. Or even then.”   
   
“How can you be so sure?” she asks, and the intensity lights up the space between them, the focal point of lightning. He reaches up and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, smiling kindly, and _oh,_ yes, this is him, he’s here, finally making an appearance, Percy laying himself bare for her.   
   
“You must have suffered a great deal and for a very long time,” he says plainly, softly. “Sometimes having the strength to survive is enough, even if you don’t have the strength to fight back.”   
   
She feels a stinging in the corners of her eyes, the landscape suddenly swirling in front of her, lights blurry and out of focus. Her fingers are suddenly wrapped around the fabric of his sweater, clutching at his chest. “Yeah?”   
   
“Let us agree that the nature of our shared experiences leaves us unable to lie to one another,” he continues, seemingly unconcerned about her desperate grasp on him. “I am seeing the truth of you. And I am telling you the truth. You are not as in conflict with yourself as you believe.”   
   
_I love you,_ she could say; she could say it now and somewhere in her heart she’d mean it, because Percy is right; the two of them recognize each other, buried deep underneath, like souls intertwined. _I love you,_ she could say, but she doesn’t.   
   
Neither of them realize the noise inside has quieted to a dull hum. His hand moves from her hair to her cheek, thumb wiping underneath her eye. She says, “You must know this doesn’t solely apply to me.” Her grip relaxes very slightly; she doesn’t want to ruin his sweater. “Being agreeable and polite and invisible until you have the opportunity to express emotion through someone else - I won’t patronize you as if you don’t know that isn’t healthy.” His mouth quirks into a sly grin at her accurate interpretation of his outward-facing persona. “You aren’t a ‘thing’ without feelings, Percy. You aren’t a tool to be used, or a vase, or any other lifeless, empty object. You’ve suffered a long time and a very great deal.”   
   
He’s as intoxicated by her words as she is by his; it’s addicting, the truth, especially when it’s one you’ve been too afraid to believe yourself. He exhales slowly and leans in, not for a kiss but for support, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes are shut; she can feel his heart pounding. She murmurs, “I know how difficult it is to open yourself up again. To give yourself up to someone else. But I can handle it. You’re not a burden.”   
   
“I’m afraid,” he breathes out, and _God,_ they’re burning each other up with the thrill and novelty of understanding. “I’m afraid I’m - irrevocably damaged, or twisted. I don’t want to drag you into myself. I won’t do that to you.”   
   
“That’s no way to heal,” she says, pulling back slightly to stare him in the eye. “Haven’t we established our inability to lie to one another? I have demons, too, and that means I can see yours for what they are, just as you see mine. Let me talk you out of them when needed. Let me scare them off.”   
   
The look in his eyes is unbearably fond, but his voice wavers, uncertain and unused to the concept of hope. “And that’s not - that isn’t too much for you?”   
   
The concrete balcony feels so firm beneath her feet she’s convinced she’s connected to the earth below, the dirt and mantle and core steadying her in place. She says, her spine straight, “It’s simpler to be strong for other people, don’t you agree?”   
   
“I do,” he answers. His hands are now on her hips, the small of her back. They’re pressed together not out of want but out of necessity.   
   
“We’ll find each other,” she says, low and tender. “We have to start somewhere.”   
   
“I can start here,” Percy says, and presses a faint, delicate kiss to Vex’s forehead, before gathering her in his arms and holding her there.   
   
\--  
   
(Keyleth smiles to herself, eyes downcast and averted. They’re all watching and pretending they aren’t. Vax, sitting at her side, doesn’t seem to know what to make of the display; she senses the war in him.  
   
“Finally,” she says quietly, before he can make up his mind.  
   
He glances over at her, corners of his mouth pulled down slightly, but the rest of his expression remains unguarded. “Is this a good thing?” he asks her bluntly. “She’s my sister. I need honesty.”  
   
“I can’t speak for Vex,” Keyleth begins carefully, not wanting to set off any alarm bells, “but Percy’s...better than he used to be. When I first met him, he rarely even smiled, like he’d forgotten how. I mean - you’ve heard his story, right? So, I’m not gonna say that he isn’t without flaws, but I think…” she pauses to weigh her words in her mouth; tact isn’t something that comes naturally to her. “I think he could use someone else, you know? Someone who isn’t me. And someone exactly like her.”   
   
Vax doesn’t answer her yet, still subtly watching them out on the balcony. It’s starting to rain and they’re both facing out at the city, buried in each other, unaware of the conversation taking place indoors. Keyleth tries, one last time, by saying, “I feel like...Vex can understand him. Understand what he’s been through. Or at least some of the - emotion, I guess, behind it.”   
   
At that, Vax _does_ look at her, eyebrows raised in a mild sort of surprise. “What makes you think that?”   
   
Keyleth shrugs, unable to formulate a concrete example. “Am I wrong?” she asks instead.  
   
Vax considers her for a moment, and then drops his head, as if he’s invaded a privacy for a little too long and is finally recognizing it. “No,” he says. “No, you’re not wrong.”  
   
“Percy seems nice,” Pike adds, as if the rest of them have been given an entryway into the conversation. “He’s sad, but he’s nice. And, come on - when was the last time Vex has shown an interest in _anyone_? Let her have this.”  
   
“Or do you not trust her judgment?” Scanlan adds, if not gracefully than at least purposefully.   
   
Vax loosens up a little, taking into account his own motivations, and says, “I won’t deny that I’m wary of it, but…” He glances back to the girl next to him, beautiful and kind and _good._ “I trust you, Keyleth. I trust that you can see things objectively, for what they are.”  
   
For some unknown reason, and one that endears her to him all the more, she blushes intensely at the compliment as if he’s just kissed her in a room full of prying eyes.)  
   
\--  
   
They never notice that the shouting had stopped, because by the time Percy and Vex reenter, it’s started again. She’s wearing his sweater and her eyes are the faintest hint of red. Nobody comments on it, looking up as though they’d barely noticed the two were gone.  
   
“Last game of the night,” Grog yells. “The two of you in, or what?”   
   
Percy plops down on Keyleth’s other side, Vex beside him. “Deal us in,” he says. “I’m feeling lucky.”   
   
\--  
   
They say goodbye the next day, later in the morning in the lobby, after a night of everybody once again sleeping in their own beds. Vax pulls Keyleth to him and she sinks into it because she doesn’t know how not to; whether she’s ready to face it or not, there’s something in her that longs for this, the closeness, the certainty.   
   
Vex is again wearing his sweater; she smiles and winks flirtatiously up at him when he notices, and he rolls his eyes, feigning aloofness. He’s not getting it back, and he comes to terms with it quickly, more than enamored with the idea of Vex casually wearing his clothes.   
   
They don’t hug. He stands in front of her, staring, overwhelmed with the events of the previous night, finding nothing left in him to say. She seems to understand wordlessly and reaches up, ruffling his hair with her hand like he’s an embarrassed young boy in need of validation, acceptance.  
   
She says, “Hang in there, Percival. You’re doing great.”   
   
It’s enough.  
   
\--  
   
**radiance against** @ _thebriarwoods_ · 26m  
.@keylethoftheair are we all crazy or were you and percival hanging out with vox machina all weekend!?  
   
**Keyleth** _@keylethoftheair_ · 15m  
_Replying to @thebriarwoods_  
We were! They’ve been my favorite band since their debut and we finally got to see them play! We had such an awesome time!! Thanks @imvaxthatsvex @imvexthatsvax @themeatman @idliketorage @monstah  
  
**Percival** @ _percivalderolo_ · 12m  
_Replying to @thebriarwoods @keylethoftheair and 5 others_  
This is me officially tweeting my agreeance of the above statement  
   
**vax’ahlia** @ _imvaxthatsvex_ · 10m  
_Replying to @percivalderolo @keylethoftheair and 5 others_  
percy, do u LIKE us? is that what ur saying??? u LIKE us??  
   
**vex’ildan** @ _imvexthatsvax_ · 9m  
_Replying to @imvaxthatsvex @percivalderolo and 5 others_  
is that true percival? you like us? vax i think he liiiikes us…...  
   
**Percival** @ _percivalderolo_ · 7m  
_Replying to @imvexthatsvax @imvaxthatsvex and 5 others_  
You’re both ridiculous. Obviously I only like Grog.  
   
**grog loves beer** @ _idliketorage_ · 5m  
_Replying to @percivalderolo @imvexthatsvax and 5 others_  
rite answer mate   
   
**Burt Reynolds** @ _themeatman_ · 2m  
_Replying to @idliketorage @imvexthatsvax and 5 others_  
hey  
   
**it’s me pike!!!** @ _monstah_ · 2m  
_Replying to @idliketorage @imvexthatsvax and 5 others_  
Hey  
   
**Percival** @ _percivalderolo_ · 33s  
_Replying to @themeatman @monstah and 5 others_  
You’re both great too.  
   
**it’s me pike!!!** @ _monstah_ · 2s  
_Replying to @percivalderolo @themeatman and 5 others_  
Thnx!!! - from me n scanlan  
   
\--  
   
Considering the paparazzi didn’t catch many pictures of them and they’d been seen with the entire band, not a lot of speculation arises from their initial meeting. But neither Percy nor Keyleth expect the silence to last - the twins aren’t exactly quiet about their interests; _especially_ not Vax, who’d openly hand over his heart to Keyleth at any given moment, if only she were to ask him for it.  
   
All Percy’s aware of on that topic is that whatever _Keyleth-and-Vax_ are, it’s definitely _something._ They’re progressing, and though it may be slow, it’ll be forever when it happens. He can sense it in her, her heart unfolding like a flower. He knows she loves him, and Vax isn’t pushing her to go anywhere she isn’t ready to. Percy can’t think of anyone better for Keyleth, or anyone who cares as deeply for her.   
   
He hears them, sometimes, through the walls of their shared apartment in Atlanta; Keyleth’s voice has taken on its own tone for Vax specifically, one so painfully tender he feels invasive just listening to it even without being able to make out the words.   
   
(They like to sit on Hangouts or Facetime and just enjoy each other’s company. He’ll work on a song and she’ll practice lines. It’s nice, he says, not to feel so alone.  
   
“You have a twin,” Keyleth points out, smiling.   
   
“Well, that’s different,” he says. “You calm me. Like my soul’s been put at ease.”   
   
Her cheeks burn pink and he doesn’t expand on the thought. She understands him just fine.)  
   
Percy and Vex, on the other hand--  
   
“I’m so fucking _bored,_ ” Vex complains to him over the phone; his cell is sitting on the counter on speaker as he cooks himself and Keyleth dinner. “I wish we could just fly everywhere rather than drive.”  
   
“Why can’t you?” he asks, measuring out a teaspoon of salt, dumping it into the pot of water boiling on the stove.   
   
“It’s not worth it,” she explains idly, rustling around on the other end. “With all of our equipment and shit - that’s saved for international tours. We’ll take a few flights here and there, depending on the distance, but it’s mostly driving.” She snickers suddenly. “I bet Keyleth would love it.”   
   
Percy grins in response. “Most definitely,” he says, beginning to chop a tomato. “How much longer d’you have?”   
   
“On this tour?” The rustling ceases; Percy imagines her still, biting her lip and thinking. “Two months. And you?”  
   
Percy pauses for the briefest of moments, also attempting to calculate. “Three weeks on location - so into mid-May - and close to another month back home in the studio.”   
   
Vex hums. “I’ve been thinking...as we’re in Atlanta next week, any chance you can give your biggest fans a set tour?”   
   
He laughs at the sly edge of her voice, like she’s fooling him somehow, or being particularly clever. “I’ll see what I can do.”  
   
“Lovely, darling, thank you.”   
   
He sighs at the smugness lining her tone. “Oh,” he says mildly, dumping the cut tomatoes in a bowl, “as if I could ever refuse you.”  
   
\--  
   
Filming is unpredictable, and so is traffic, so the band doesn’t get to set until late afternoon when they’re well into a scene. Percy relieves a poor, intimidated intern of them at the entrance to the soundstage and leads them quietly to where the assistant director is sitting under what looks like a type of tent, two large screens in front her, and on them--  
   
“Woah,” Grog whispers, pointing. “Look at Keyleth. She looks _awesome._ ”  
   
Keyleth is towards the right of the shot, standing in what looks like a kind of dungeon, or a castle, and she’s _stunning._ Otherworldly. She’s wearing a green, loosely-fitting dress that appears as if she created it from the forest itself, a gorgeous mantle over her shoulders that unfolds into almost a cloak of leaves, and a circlet on which a pair of antlers seem to sprout from. She’s carrying a staff and laughing at something with an older, sickly looking woman next to her as a man fixes her make-up.  
   
“My, my,” Vex says, examining Percy’s getup - he’s in a royal blue coat with some sort of puffy necktie and a vest over a white button-down shirt with slacks, and very nice boots. “Don’t _you_ look dashing.”  
   
“We’re between shots,” Percy says, rolling his eyes. “They’re getting one last angle on her and then she’ll have a moment to greet you while they set up the next scene. She’s actually just past the tent, here. If you take a quick glance around, you can see her - but it may be best if she’s not aware you’re here yet.”   
   
“Cool,” Pike says, enthralled, clutching onto Grog’s arm. “Percy, dude, this is amazing, thank you _so_ much--”  
   
“Of course,” he says, smiling kindly at her, and then a hush falls over the set.   
   
“Ladies,” they hear the director call in a thick English accent, “let’s pull ourselves together. Nearly there, nearly there. Marks, please.” Keyleth reigns it in, and they’re content to watch her on the screen in front of them. “And...action!”   
   
Her face contorts, vicious, angry, terrifying; it’s an expression none of them, aside from Percy, have ever seen on her before and not one she would wear naturally. Her muscles flex under her skin, pulled taut, a snake ready to strike. The older woman is circling around her slowly, a cruel curve to her smile and a deadly look in her eyes.   
   
“... _Pathetic,”_ the woman whispers bitterly. “ _All this trouble and not a thing to show for it. You wouldn’t have even gotten this far if not for your...remarkable friend. Is this the truth of you, my darling? That you are a weak and powerless thing who only knows how to endanger the lives of those who help her?_ ”  
   
“ _Enough,”_ Keyleth says, low and dangerous, sounding nothing like herself. Vex shivers, trained on the woman, her dialogue echoing around Vex’s skull in someone else’s voice.  
   
“ _You’re nothing._ ” The words ring in the air; it’s as if a chill moves swiftly through the set. “ _You’ve come to me with no help, no resources, no convincing arguments. You lack even words in this moment, and it is profoundly embarrassing. You’re a dishonor to yourself, and to those who died for you._ ” The woman curls her mouth hideously, pulling at her skin. “ _At least allow me to repay them by forcing you to suffer the way they did - slowly, without grace, without dignity. Let them hear you scream, like the others before you. Like your own mother._ ”  
   
“ _I will not die,_ ” Keyleth hisses, flooding her veins with fire, and suddenly they’re struck with the sense that Keyleth’s character has hit her breaking point. “ _Repay them, yes, I will - but not with my blood. With yours!_ ”   
   
And her hands whips out with more agility than they’d thought possible from her, wrapping around the woman’s throat, and hoisting her into the air, one-handed.   
   
Percy quickly and quietly claps a hand over Grog’s mouth to stop his exclamation, as he hadn’t realized the other woman was on wires. Keyleth _looks_ as if she’s exerting a tremendous amount of force, which they know cannot be true, but that’s the magic of cinema, Vex thinks, entranced by the display.   
   
“Your girlfriend is _way_ cooler than you,” she leans over and whispers in Vax’s ear, trying to ignore the ghosts. He smacks her away, but he’s smiling.   
   
\--  
   
Keyleth almost stabs him with her antlers, which a crew member then pries off of her in a panic, fearful of the potential lawsuit.    
   
“Sorry, sorry!” she says again, inspecting him for damage. “God, I was just so excited to see you, I’m so sorry, I always forget they’re basically weapons--”  
   
“You could’ve _killed him,_ ” Scanlan says dramatically, and Vax snorts loudly.   
   
“Kiki, it’s fine, honestly,” he tells her, taking her hand before it can reach him again. “You didn’t even scratch me. No harm done.”  
   
She smiles brightly, allowing their joined hands to come to rest. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says, and then shifts her gaze to each of them. “All of you.”   
   
“Are you?” Percy asks dryly upon his return from craft services, handing Vex a plate of grapes and cheese. “You won’t be after the news I just received.”   
   
The party turns to look at him; Vex raises an eyebrow, the grapes in her mouth making her look like a chipmunk with half a full cheek. Keyleth blinks owlishly. “What?”   
   
“Change of order, to put it lightly,” Percy says. “We’re filming the scene near the end where - erm, where you...overdo it?” He’s trying not to give it away. “Where I have to step in and help you. We were supposed to start tomorrow with it, but the weather forecast isn’t great.”  
   
She stares at him for half a second longer before it clicks, and then her skin flushes bright red as if she’s boiling herself in water. She glances back to Vax and squeaks out, “Well, thanks for visiting!”   
   
“Keyleth, Percival!” a voice calls. “Ten minutes!”  
   
Percy grins devilishly. Keyleth is now the color of a sunburn.   
   
“Well, obviously, we have to stay,” Grog points out logically, “because she wants us to leave so badly. Means it must be good, right?”   
   
“Are you guys gonna fuck or something?” Scanlan asks bluntly. “I’m pretty sure that storyline wasn’t set up very well in the first one, if so.”  
   
Percy actually laughs, and it’s genuine, unashamed and free. “No, no, we’re not going that far.”  
   
“‘ _That fa_ r’...” the twins quote at the same time, staring between them ominously.   
   
“Um,” Keyleth says, and then turns and runs away as fast she can in costume.   
   
Percy only snickers harder, and says, “Go ahead and stick around. Once it starts, it won’t matter, anyway. She’s a professional.”   
   
\--  
   
(So, Percy and Keyleth have to _kiss._  
   
Vex is nearly on the floor in hysterics; Vax is torn between utter amusement and a weird fit of jealousy. Vex, who’s never kissed Percy, has nothing to be jealous of, something she doesn’t mind rubbing in.  
   
“I don’t know what I’m missing out on, you see?” she says, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I can truly enjoy this moment. Oh, I can’t wait.”  
   
“You’ll probably be _dating_ him by the time this film comes out,” Vax says snidely, not willing to lose this one. “And then you’ll go the premiere and watch them kiss in high definition and surround sound. We’ll see who’s laughing then.”   
   
Vex stops, staring off into the distance with an expression equal parts disgust, fear, apprehension, and longing.  
   
“Yeah,” Vax says. “That’s what I thought.”)  
   
\--  
   
It’s not actually that bad - it isn’t a romantic kiss; it’s a desperate one. Keyleth’s character is on the brink of destroying herself in order to bring about justice, or revenge, and she doesn’t care if she survives or not - misguided and grieving, she imagines herself to be just as bad as her enemies. But Percy’s character can see through the smoke and mirrors, the manipulation and ego, and when reason and logic and every other call to her soul fails, he kisses her.  
   
It’s quite beautiful, and Pike and Grog find themselves oddly emotional even without full context; they keep patting each other and wiping their eyes.   
   
The band watches the two of them really _act_ for this, not behind the tent through the screens. In-person, they’re even more stunning and gripping, their transformations almost unbelievable to witness.   
   
Vex has never seen this much unbridled emotion from Percy since she’s known him, and she recognizes again how spot-on her own interpretation of him had been. This _is_ his outlet for feeling, for everything he can’t bear to keep within himself.   
   
“ _I know you,_ ” he’s saying. “ _You’ll trust her over me? At the end of everything, you won’t even allow yourself the final courtesy of believing a single thing I say about you? After what we’ve done for each other, after all this time and torture--”_  
   
“ _You want me to live,_ ” Keyleth says in response, lost and heartbroken. “ _That’s your priority, but it isn’t mine - I won’t sacrifice anyone else! Let it end with me! Please, let it end with me!_ ”   
   
Whatever’s happening will be inserted as a special effect, but Keyleth mimes some exertion of power, and suddenly they watch one of Percy’s hands tangle in her hair and the other wrap around her waist, and he’s pulling her in close, pressing his lips desperately and painfully against hers. After a moment of her still and unmoving, her arms fall slowly and her fingers curl around his shoulders, and when he releases her his tears glimmer in the light.   
   
“ _It won’t end with you,_ ” he murmurs. “ _I won’t let you do this. I’ll die with you before I allow this to happen. This blood is not on your hands. Don’t spill your own.”_  
   
“Cut! We’ll cut there,” the director shouts, and walks over to give the two of them a few notes.  
   
There’s a loud noise, a bit like a cross between a sneeze and a cannon. “You really _are_ twins,” Grog guffaws at Vax and Vex, standing there with identical expressions of bafflement on their faces, their mouths hanging open. Percy and Keyleth are now laughing at a joke their make-up artist has cracked, as if the emotion of the scene was nothing but a quick interruption of their normal dynamic.  
   
“I’m feeling like,” Vax begins, “I want to kiss Keyleth.”  
   
“I’m feeling like I want you to shut up,” Vex responds stupidly, still dazed.   
   
Percy finds her eyes and winks.  
   
\--  
   
(Percy and Keyleth have to do multiple takes of it before they’re granted enough of a break to give the band a proper tour, but Vex and Vax decide once is enough, and hole themselves up in Keyleth’s trailer until they’re finished with it. Vax sits on the couch and doesn’t pry, but Vex pokes around, oddly charmed by the decoration. Keyleth’s got a windowsill of succulents and various gifts from fans plastered to her mirror, and in between, snapshots of her and with the people important to her - there’s a strip from a photobooth of her and Percy making ridiculous faces; another of them on set during their first film; one of Keyleth as a child and a woman who is most definitely her mother; and, dead center on the vanity, two distinct pictures side-by-side: her and Percy with the whole band from their trip to New York, and what looks like a selfie she’d taken with Vax, slightly blurry and out of focus, but the laughter on their faces genuine and real.   
   
Vex smiles as she picks up the photo, and turns around, extending it to Vax.   
   
“I think you’re doing just fine, brother,” she says as he stares at it in awe.)  
   
\--  
   
They all end up at a local bar afterward, drinking and eating greasy pub food and relaxing in a private booth in the back. It’s more about enjoying each other’s company than getting drunk for once, considering he and Keyleth do have to show up to work tomorrow and do their jobs properly. They cycle through a few options as to what to do for the rest of the evening - Scanlan suggests bowling, but it’s hard for Grog to entertain ideas that aren’t all-out wild - when Pike catches Vex’s eye and grins, clearing her throat.  
   
“Actually, Scanlan and Grog and I are gonna join Gilmore barhopping,” she says, lying through her teeth, though only Vex can tell. Grog pumps a fist. “So if the two of you wanna go hang out with Keyleth and Percy, you totally should.”   
   
Scanlan seems to catch on to her game pretty quickly. “Yeah, definitely. We’d like to take advantage of our one completely free night while we’re here.”   
   
Vex shrugs. “Be our guest,” she says, and then cocks her head at Percy. “Is that alright with you, oh gracious hosts?”   
   
“Yes, of course!” Keyleth responds a little too quickly, fingers clutching at her bottle. “We can - watch a movie, or something.”  
   
And that’s what they do. Well, sort of.  
   
They make it through half a movie - some old, black-and-white classic that ends up mostly as background noise - before Vex falls fast asleep, curled up against Percy’s side, his arm over her shoulders. It doesn’t take him much longer to follow her there, dozing off underneath Vex’s weight and a blanket, and Keyleth quietly tugs Vax into her bedroom, seemingly ignorant of the implications.   
   
“Let’s let them be,” she murmurs, shutting her door as gently as she can. “They’re obviously tired.”  
   
Vax wastes no time making himself at home. He kicks off his shoes and sprawls across her bed, picking up a stuffed white tiger and examining it. “He doesn’t sleep with people often, does he?”   
   
“Uh, is he supposed to?” She’s slightly confused at the question, quirking an eyebrow as she sits down next him, leaning back against the pillows. “Do you?”   
   
Vax laughs, tossing the animal up in the air and catching it. “I meant literally. I have a twin sister and a tour bus, so we’ve shared a bed more often than not. But I didn’t peg him as a guy who’d easily do something as vulnerable as sleeping beside someone.”   
   
“Oh, I see,” she says, resting the side of her head in her hand. “No, he doesn’t. He’s not really the type to let his guard down like that. So, I figured...”  
   
“Ah.” It’s not an interesting revelation and so Vax doesn’t pursue it further. “And what about you?”   
   
“Me?” She’s apparently startled that he even has to ask. “I’m an open book, aren’t I?”  
   
“Sometimes,” he answers truthfully, looking at her, cheek pressed against her moss-green comforter. “Mostly. But I think everyone has something they’re trying to protect themselves from.”   
   
She picks at a loose thread on one of her pillows, eyes averted down. “So what’s yours?”   
   
He thinks about saying _rejection_ , which is true, but he assumes that’s true for almost everybody. He thinks of Vex and Percy in the other room, wrapped around each other innocently, holding their demons at bay. He thinks of Vex at peace.   
   
And then he thinks of Vex, four, three, two years ago; flinching at a touch like a burn, eyes hollow in her skull, looking more like a girl in a graveyard than a rock show. He thinks of bruises and emptiness and the faint foreboding of home. How she got to the point where it hurt so much it stopped feeling like pain at all, and then she was nothing.   
   
“Change,” he says instead, unable to be anything but brutally, achingly honest. He hears the beeping of hospital equipment like the beating of his own heart. “The unknown, I guess. The future. The things I can’t see.”   
   
It’s not the answer Keyleth is expecting, and she tilts her chin down, examining him. “In what way?” She can’t stop herself from asking.   
   
He cradles the words in his mouth before spilling them out; he doesn’t want to pour out all of Vex’s secrets, but it’s him, too. There are parts that are his and he needs to talk about them.   
   
“I don’t know how much you know, if anything,” he says. “De Rolo seems like he’s...good at playing his cards close to the vest. Like he wouldn’t betray her, if she had told him, and I know she has. I can tell how much of herself she’s investing in him.”   
   
Keyleth doesn’t interrupt, but her facial expressions are simple enough to read; she half-smiles, bemused and sad, but he’d judged Percy’s character correctly and she appreciates it. He continues, “Vex was in a - a pretty terrible situation a few years ago. With a man. He...took advantage of her insecurities. He’d pick out all of the horrible things she thought about herself, and validate them to her rather than relieving her of them. He abused her. It was...bad. It was really bad.”  
   
“Vax…” Keyleth exhales, the quiet acknowledgment breaking him down.   
   
“I didn’t know,” he confesses, and his eyes sting sharply. “I didn’t know she thought these things about herself. I knew something was wrong, but she’s such a good liar, and she’s so...she didn’t want me to worry about her. She’s good at keeping people out. She thought it would get better, or that she’d one day work up the courage to leave him.”  
   
“But she didn’t,” Keyleth infers softly. Her hands are now covering Vax’s own, resting gently on his chest.   
   
“She didn’t,” he says. “He almost killed her, and all I could think about was that I should’ve known. I let her down. I left her alone.” She strokes her thumb with his, allowing him to let it all out before speaking. “I’m afraid that - she’s _finally_ better, Keyleth. She’s someone I recognize again. And I don’t want to lose her, not now, not ever.”  
   
Keyleth carefully bends down and presses a kiss to the back of their joined hands. She says, “The fact that you’re so terrified of it proves that you wouldn’t let it happen again, even if it were an option.” She pauses, rolling over sentences as she constructs them. “I think that makes you brave, Vax. People can’t - always admit their own faults, or places they may have gone wrong. Protecting someone...isn’t as easy as it seems. But I also think it makes you stupid.”  
   
He’s so caught off-guard by the insult that he nearly laughs; she blushes, struggling to rectify the statement. “You _know_ it wasn’t your fault,” she clarifies, and the redness in her cheeks fades fast. “You’re carrying this burden alone. She didn’t place it upon you.”  
   
“I don’t know that,” he denies, staring at the ceiling, the brief amusement falling away. “Maybe part of it was, and I hurt her. Maybe my obliviousness almost got her killed. What if there are things I just don’t _see_? Does it then matter if it’s accidental or not? What if I hurt you next?”  
   
She’s silent for awhile, pondering him, her grip on his hands loose and comforting. After a moment, she says, “That’s mine, by the way.”  
   
“Your what?”   
   
“What I’m trying to protect myself from,” she says, and pulls her arm back. “You hurting me.”   
   
He tilts his head towards her, shocked, heart dissecting itself horizontally. “Do you truly believe I would?” he asks, refusing to accept the confirmation she’s giving him. “That I’m capable of it?”   
   
She smiles kindly down at him, but it’s wistful somehow, morose and tender. “No,” she answers softly. “But you do, and I think that’s probably the same thing.”   
   
\--  
   
When Vex groggily opens her eyes, it’s because there’s an infomercial playing at a much louder volume than the film they’d apparently dozed off watching. She blindly reaches for the remote without fully waking up and finds the correct buttons in the dim light until it’s a gentle hum, and then she leans back against whatever she’d comfortably been sleeping on, which happens to be--  
   
Percy. Percy with his arm around her, feet kicked up on the coffee table, glasses set aside, peaceful and dreamless. Percy blissfully handing her casual affection without consequence, like it’s simple, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to give yourself up to someone. She doubts he even thought twice about it. She was there and she needed him and so he stayed.  
   
She leans forward carefully and presses a delicate kiss to his cheek, not wanting to disturb him; she shifts to resume her previous position, but his hand moves, lightly rubbing her lower back. His head tilts to the other side, facing her, though his eyes stay shut.   
   
He murmurs, “Vex’ahlia.” His voice is rough from sleep, but he lifts his arm again, allowing her the room she needs to huddle herself closer to him. She’s struck with the sudden urge to cry without fully understanding why. He squints at her when she doesn’t move, a small smile on his face. “It’s okay,” he says. “Come here.”   
   
It’s almost as if something cracks open in her soul that she’d been holding back a long, long time; she sinks into him like pouring water, her fingers curling over his shoulder, her face buried in the crook of his neck. He doesn’t speak, just loops both his arms around her and holds her tighter as if to stop her from breaking apart in his hands.  
   
\--  
   
(The apartment is quiet when Keyleth rolls out of bed to grab a glass of water, interrupted only by Vax’s deep, even breathing and the faint buzz of the television in the living room. She makes a motion to turn it off when she realizes Percy and Vex are still there, stretched out across the couch and tangled up together. They’re facing each other; his arm is thrown around her waist and she has her forehead pressed against his chest, and it’s too close, too intimate. Keyleth has to force herself to look away.)  
   
\--  
   
Percy’s alarm vibrates somewhere underneath his hip early the next morning, but what actually wakes him is Vex’s muffled voice against his collarbone saying, “Turn that fucking thing off, Percival.”   
   
“You do it,” he finds himself answering, still clinging on to the edges sleep. “Your hand’s closer.”   
   
She harrumphs in her throat, but he feels her fingers digging into his thigh as she slides his phone out from underneath him, dropping it between their bodies. He blindly gropes for it as Vex resumes her rest, clearly too comfortable to let anything disturb her.   
   
He squints at his messages; he makes out _delayed call time due to weather_ and sighs contentedly, switching over his alarm and tossing it onto the coffee table. He’s slightly more awake, and Vex is still here, aware of their position and enjoying it; he lowers his arm back to where it’d been resting across her waist previously and pulls her impossibly closer. She makes a small noise of surprise but doesn’t move away; she merely readjusts her head and throws a leg over his hip, and he notices--  
   
She seems to come to the same realization, because he feels her lips curve up into a grin where her cheek is resting against his shoulder.   
   
He heads her off at the pass, too exhausted to care. “You can fuck right off if you’re about to laugh.”   
   
She does anyway, prompted by his remark; it’s a sweet, tired sort of giggle without any weight behind it. “Well,” she says, “you _are_ a man, and I _am_ extremely attractive.”  
   
“I’m _sure_ it was the combination of those two things, of course,” he replies dryly. “Your perception remains unmatched.”  
   
She laughs again, and her hand crawls upward, fingers resting gently against the side of his neck. “Another day, I’ll take advantage of it.”  
   
“I look forward to it,” he says, smiling despite himself and the oddity of their circumstances. He feels her adjust her head against his arm, tilting up her chin to look at him, and he opens one eye, blinking blearily at her.   
   
She’s smiling, and the tips of her fingers are dancing against his skin, and in another life, he is sure he is already doing this forever.  
   
“Yes?” he probes, his stare unbearably soft, his tone too gentle, too open and familiar.   
   
Vex runs the pad of her thumb across his bottom lip, biting her own without realizing it, an automatic desire. She murmurs, “You know I do, don’t you?” and her glance drops to his mouth and back. “You know I want you.”   
   
Percy understands the confession for what it is: a validation rather than an invitation, a place for discussion instead of action. It wouldn’t be a good idea - not now, not yet - but it’s still the truth.  
   
“Our call time was pushed,” he says in lieu of a direct response. “I’ve a few more hours. Spend them with me.”  
   
“Here?” she asks coyly. “On your couch? Don’t you own a bed, Percival?”   
   
“I do,” he says, shutting his eyes and resting his cheek against the top of her head, his hand running up and down her spine. “However, I’m lacking in the self-control your brother and Keyleth no doubt possess. And if this conversation has been any indication, I’m sure you are, as well.”  
   
Her body vibrates in a silent laugh, movements becoming laggier, and he recognizes the signs of exhaustion overtaking her once again. He drifts away idly imagining what it’d be like to control his dreams, and that if he could, he’d dream about her now, exactly like this, and no shadows would be lurking in the background.  
   
\--  
   
(And, well, Percy’s not wrong.  
   
On the other side of the wall, Vax has stuck diligently to his allotted side of the bed and Keyleth to hers, bodies a respectable distance apart, comfortable to coexist.   
   
But somewhere along the duration of the night, they’d found each other’s hands and they hadn’t let go.)  
   
\--  
   
They’re lazing around backstage while the tech team does the soundcheck for the night’s show; Vex keeps yawning, and Pike finally takes pity on her and gives her the rest of her cappuccino.   
   
“Long night?” she asks slyly, wiggling one eyebrow repeatedly up and down.   
   
Vex rolls her eyes. “Not in the way you’re imagining.”  
   
“ _Really?_ ” Pike says disbelievingly, leaning back against the wall, crew members passing around them like they’re invisible. “Okay, spill, Vex. Don’t tell me he rejected you or something.”  
   
She laughs, because it’s the furthest thing from the truth. “No,” she says. “It’s - it’s both of us, but it’s me.”  
   
“Spit it out.”   
   
Vex focuses on the bass line thrumming through the floor; somewhere on stage, Scanlan’s shredding out notes and Grog’s hammering away on the drums and Vax’s voice is echoing lowly through the microphone, singing about ghosts. But there’s another memory, one of a hand around her throat and a smile too cold and cruel and vicious to ever have meant love; she closes her eyes sees those beige walls, those linoleum floors and fluorescent lights, and sometimes her bones still feel as heavy as they did then, too broken and bruised to move.  
   
Giving up all pretense, she says, “I don’t want to fuck him and hate myself.” The words are harsher and more blunt than she intends, but she pushes on; Pike’s always been someone to listen without judgment, without fault or flaw. “I don’t want to be afraid, and I don’t want to be...somewhere else. I want to be _with_ him. And I want to remember what it’s like when it’s about someone else, you know? Not just - me using people to remind myself I still exist, and that I _am_ wanted. That I didn’t die.”   
   
“I get it,” Pike says, because she always does. She lays a comforting hand on Vex’s knee. “You don’t want to be in your head. And I’m sure Percy has that concern, too.”   
   
“Yeah,” Vex says, willing herself not to cry again; she’s been doing too much of that lately. “I could’ve had him so long ago if I’d wanted. But it wouldn’t have been real. I would’ve hurt him and I don’t think - I don’t think I could’ve come back from that.”  
   
“Because you would’ve been proving Saundor right,” Pike infers quietly, and takes Vex’s fingers in hers instead. “Oh, honey.”   
   
Vex tilts her head back, resting against the wall. “Yeah,” she sighs out. Grog yells from somewhere around the corner, and then there’s a loud clatter; Scanlan laughs as Vax erupts in curses.   
   
“But you didn’t,” Pike points out, ignoring the commotion. “You didn’t hurt Percy. You’ve done exactly the opposite, so far, actually. Anyone can see that he adores you, Vex; you make him _so_ happy. By the time this weekend is over, I’ll bet the blogs will be going insane over the two of you. I know Keyleth already tweeted about us all hanging out again, so, I mean, it’s only a matter of time.”  
   
Vex can’t stop the smile that unfolds as Pike rambles. “Fans are that perceptive, are they?”   
   
“Oh, yeah,” she says, “but that wasn’t going to be my point. My point is that you make him happy, and you’re trying to protect him, and protect yourself. And even back then, you were trying to protect _us._ That makes you _nothing_ like Saundor said you were, Vex. Nothing.”  
   
“I’m really trying not to cry,” Vex says, her throat tighter with every breath, “but thank you, Pike.”   
   
“Anytime,” she says, and the world pauses its rotation for a moment, giving Vex the time she needs to catch up.  
   
\--  
   
(By some unspoken agreement, Vex and Vax take up residence in Percy and Keyleth’s apartment over the weekend. It’s strange, two couples who aren’t couples but should be casually sharing space; it’s not as if they aren’t all aware of each other’s shortcomings, either. Keyleth never comments on the fact that Vex and Percy refuse to use his bedroom, and likewise, no remarks are ever directed at her and Vax for deciding to use hers.  
   
Vax hears Vex’s laughter through the wall and feels her heart is safe. Vex notices he stands taller than he used to, and there is no sadness to his smile.)  
   
\--  
   
Pike, to nobody’s surprise, turns out to be right.  
   
Percy and Keyleth coming to a second show and a third show back-to-back cements suspicion; _i know its keyleths fav band but nobody likes a band that much,_ Keyleth reads aloud from her indirects, _i think something’s going on with someone._  
   
**gianna loves you** @ _gunslingers_ · 3h  
_Replying to @suntree_  
who do u think tho? have they been seen in pairs at all or should we start just taking bets. i mean i agree like 2 nights in a row...verrrry fishy  
   
**aya** @ _suntree_ · 3h  
_Replying to @gunslingers_  
well pike & grog & scanlan were out w/gilmore thurs night -sans twins. so im thinking one of them ?  
   
**jj** @ _voxexmachina_ · 3h  
_Replying to @gunslingers @suntree_  
Omg wait yall this needs to be investigated further,,,this is so legit. Are there pics from Thurs w/out the twins?  
   
**aya** @ _suntree_ · 3h  
_Replying to @voxexmachina @gunslingers_  
yeah! someone posted the pics on tumblr here:   
   
**teresa 2.0**  @ _strongjawale_ · 3h  
_Replying to @gunslingers @suntree @voxexmachina_  
well the twins are bi so the possibilities are truly endless here if it is indeed one of them...i’m ngl i’d be hella into percival and vax  
   
**back on my bullshit** @ _vexxxed_ · 2h  
_Replying to @strongjawale @gunslingers @suntree and 1 other_  
I JUST DEADASS HAD A HEART ATTACK AT THE IDEA OF VEX AND KEYLETH ASDDSLGKDSGLJL  
   
**aya** @ _suntree_ · 2h  
_Replying to @vexxxed @strongjawale @gunslingers and 1 other_  
asfkghsfdl percival is straight im p sure...my moneys on him and vex tbh. keyleth just seems too clueless (in a cute way)  
   
**jj** @ _voxexmachina_ · 2h  
_Replying to @suntree @vexxxed @strongjawale and 1 other_  
Idk, Id be into Keyleth/Vax, theyre a whole midnight vs sunlight aesthetic just waiting to happen  
   
**the legend of tara** @ _scarenrae_ · 2h  
_Replying to @voxexmachina @suntree @vexxxed and 2 others_  
thanks j, now i gotta go make that shit immediately.  
   
It continues on like that for awhile, and Keyleth only stops because Grog almost pisses himself laughing at the idea of Percy and _Vax_ in a relationship, to which Vax response by draping himself across Percy’s back with his arms around his neck and kissing his cheek loudly.  
   
Scanlan says, “Can’t wait to see your aesthetics.”   
   
“Oh, young love,” Pike adds.  
   
Grog bends down and whispers, “What’s an ascetic?”  
   
\--  
   
Moving on from Atlanta is harder for the twins than their brief respite in New York had been; not because of the novelty of New York, but because of the familiarity of home in Atlanta. Percy and Keyleth’s apartment had been the furthest thing from a tour bus or a hotel room, full of warmth and light and people who wanted them to be there.  
   
But something in Vax which was once closed has now opened, and he can’t wait for it any longer. He refuses to sacrifice anything else, or anyone else. He pulls Vex off to the side one evening when they’ve stopped to refuel and he’s unsteady, as if he’s aching to talk to her but desperately terrified of her answers; he grips one of her hands in his, and she recognizes that the touch means something to him.  
   
He says, “I love Keyleth.”  
   
“I’m aware,” Vex says, obviously bewildered but indulgent. “I remember it well, as I was there when you told her.”  
   
“I love her,” Vax says again, holding Vex’s hand against his chest, over his heart. “I love her, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, or that I won’t be there for you whenever you need me.”  
   
“I know that,” Vex laughs, rolling her eyes at his dramaticism. “You’re my darling brother. I get it.”   
   
“No,” he says, clutching her tighter. “No, I really mean it. You can...tell me, when things happen to you. I want to be someone you come to. Someone who listens to you.”  
   
Vex takes in his sweet, sad eyes; his earnestness, the masked despair underneath his words. She thinks of him sleeping in a chair next to her bed for a week straight, and every time before that she’d said _I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine._ And she understands.   
   
She pulls him in close to her, her arms around his shoulders, chin against the crook of his neck. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, feeling him hug her back slowly, uncertain. “You know - you know I’ve never blamed you, right?”   
   
He shakes harder in her embrace, and _oh,_ no, he’s _never_ realized that, this stupid fool of a man whom she adores more than her own life; even if she doesn’t blame him, he blames himself. Her ribs feel like they’ve split open, cracking against the way she has to suddenly stop herself from choking on her breath. How could she never have _realized,_ how could she not have thought-- “Vax, my God - no, you bloody idiot, what happened to me was _not_ your fault! There was _nothing_ you could’ve done--”  
   
“I could’ve gotten you out of there,” he whispers, his voice barely hanging on. “I knew you were lying to me, but I didn’t--”  
   
“You couldn’t have,” she says firmly, “because I wouldn’t have _listened_ to you _,_ even if you were sitting in front of me showing me the evidence. Vax, it wasn’t my fault, and it wasn’t your fault; it was _him._ I...I believed certain things for so long that you could’ve done whatever you wanted and it wouldn’t have been enough. I needed more. I needed an army, and by the time I ended up where I did, that’s what I had.” She rubs her hands comfortingly up and down his back. “I know Grog and Pike stopped him from getting within a hundred feet of my hospital room and threatened to beat him fifty times worse if he tried. I know Scanlan was the one who looked into the restraining order and legal proceedings. And I know you sat at my side every single day until I’d healed, and I know you haven’t left since.”  
   
He’s openly weeping into her shoulder, finally unburdened, relieved, and so, so devastated for her, for everything she lost and found again. “I love you,” he says through tears. “I love you so, so much, and I can’t live without you.”   
   
“You don’t have to,” she says, pulling away and taking his face between her palms, meeting his eyes. “I’ll be here. Forever. Okay?”   
   
He holds her gaze a moment longer, attempting to steady himself. “Okay,” he says at last.   
   
“Good,” she says, “because now you can pursue the woman you’re actually _in love_ with guiltlessly, which is what I want for you. I _want_ you to be happy, Vax, and I refuse to be the thing that holds you back from that.” She takes in a breath, blinking solidly, blocking out the world for a second as she finds the words for her own confession. “Look. I’m - I’m changing, too. I’m trying to. And I think we both need to - trust ourselves, for once. Trust that we’re doing what’s right for us, even if it’s in different directions. We can find each other, no matter what.”   
   
Vax observes her briefly, his mouth pulling into the barest hint of a smile. “He’s good for you, isn’t he,” he says plainly, almost looking proud of her. “I know you’re good for him. Why haven’t you told him yet?”   
   
Vex bites the inside of her own lip, taken aback by the sudden shift in attention, and resists the automatic urge to deflect her emotion. “He is,” she says honestly. “And I haven’t...found the words. Maybe I need to sing about it,” she tacks on as a weak attempt at a joke, but he raises his eyebrows, contemplating.  
   
“Maybe you do,” he says finally, and drops his eyes with a smile. “Maybe we both do.”  
   
\--  
   
(We have things to say to each other, he tells her. We have things to say to them. So let’s say them the way we know how. Sit down with me.  
   
Pike ushers Grog and Scanlan to the back of the bus, recognizing the importance of the moment building between them. Vax pulls out a notepad and two pens and sets them on the table while Vex gazes aimlessly out the window, her fingers moving idly across her guitar strings, searching for herself, for what she wants and how to achieve it.   
   
What are you trying to stop? Vax asks, scribbling in the margins. What are we changing from?   
   
Lying, Vex says, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind. I’m trying to be more like me, and less like someone I was made into.  
   
I’m trying that, too, Vax says, which surprises her. I don’t want to have doubts. About you, about myself.  
   
Vex grabs the pen and writes out, _I’m giving up this whole lie,_ _and_ _this whole me._  
   
There, she says. That’s what I’m doing.   
   
Vax furrows his brow, and in a different handwriting, _Call it out like a family_ appears below it, but he doesn’t stop - _instead I bide my time, get a ride, until the -_ he crosses out a few things; she sees ‘tires’ struck out, screech - and then: _until the rubber leaves the road._  
   
Vex doesn’t know how to follow that, and says, Okay, now what are we telling _them._  
   
That I’m determined not to make the same mistakes I’ve made before, Vax says immediately. That I won’t blame myself for the actions of others. But that sounds stupid, and shallow. It’s more like... _she’s_ my intention. Does that make sense? She is, you are. It’s not like something meaningless I can break.   
   
No, I understand, Vex says. It has weight.   
   
She writes out words. _Drive, motivation, determination, intention._ None of them are right. _Resolution._  
   
Yes, Vax says, tilting his head. That’s it. Because it’s us, you know, it’s a promise to ourselves and to them.   
   
Okay, Vex says, scrawling out _you’ll be my resolution._ I think we’ve got something here. Hold on. We can work with this theme.   
   
They take turns scribbling down whatever comes to mind along the same lines - one verse has the both of them mirroring each other, with Vex writing, _You said don’t lie so I made the truth / seem like a lie to even you_ and Vax adding after _Control your fear, it’s clear / that you do not know where you’re going to._  
   
Vex’s most honest verse comes because Keyleth and Percy text them around one in the morning, finally wrapping up their workday; they tend to stay focused during filming, but when they get home to relax, their minds wander, and the twins’ phones end up simultaneously going off more often than not. Keyleth texts Vax “miss you” and Vax takes a moment to just stare at her picture, and Percy’s message to Vex is simply “Wanted to say goodnight, apologies if I’ve woken you.”  
   
Fuck, she breathes out, and Vax drops his forehead to the table. It’s torture, she says.  
   
_One month down and it’s in sight / oh I’m guaranteed to lose my mind_  
_It’s dangerous to speak and sigh / you might know what I’m trying to hide_  
   
Vax doesn’t laugh. It’s hard, wanting someone and not being able to have them, but not because the love isn’t there.   
   
It takes them another two hours to finish the lyrics, and they come up with a bare melody born purely from Vex’s idle plucking. They decide it needs to feel like them, and not like the persona they put on; it needs to be vulnerable because it is.   
   
In the morning, Pike finds the notepad still lying on the table, covered in doodles and scratched out words and a random game of hangman, “resolution” written at the top. She reads it - she figures they’ll get to anyway, considering they’ll be playing it - and is surprised to feel herself almost moved to tears by it. It’s deeply personal, and for once, it’s not angry or bitter or careless, or even rough around the edges like many of their songs are; it’s a mark of something new. She traces over the ink of the last lines.  
   
_I’m not you, nor you me_  
_but we’re both moving steady._ )  
   
\--  
   
**vex’ildan** @ _imvexthatsvax_ · 16m  
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4)...  
   
**the legend of tara** @ _scarenrae_ · 11m  
y’all it’s totally vex. listen to the song she posted  
______________________  
**vex’ildan** @ _imvexthatsvax_  
[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4)...

 

 

Keyleth Retweeted  
**vex’ildan** @ _imvexthatsvax_ · 17m  
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4)...  
   
**the legend of tara** @ _scarenrae_ · 5m  
_Replying to @imvexthatsvax @keylethoftheair_  
FUCK !!!!!  
   
\--  
   
_FROM: Percy_  
_Interesting song choice._  
   
_TO: Percy_  
_do you have tweet alerts turned on for me?_  
   
_FROM: Percy_  
_Obviously._  
   
_TO: Percy_  
_good. ;)_  
   
_TO: Percy_  
_so any response?_  
   
_FROM: Percy_  
_Musically? Perhaps. But it’ll have to wait._  
   
_FROM: Percy_  
_Plus, Keyleth retweeted it, so now twitter thinks you’re dating each other._  
   
_TO: Percy_  
_oh, balls._  
   
_FROM: Percy_  
_Her exact words were “ugh, she just so gets me.”_  
   
_TO: Percy_  
_that’s the last time i try and sneakily reveal my feelings through music to you._  
   
\--  
   
2:45 AM  
_FROM: Percy_  
_It’s true._  
   
\--  
   
A few weeks later, Percy and Keyleth are _finally_ home.   
   
Keyleth’s first priority is watering her own plants, and then heading straight to Percy’s to tend to his. She’s almost frantic about it, carrying a misplaced sense of guilt for ‘leaving them alone so long,’ despite having had someone care for them the entire time they’d been away.   
   
The band is somewhere in the south, but they perform on a late-night talk show that’s employing one those _travel the country_ sets where they host in a variety of American cities as a publicity stunt, and an opportunity for fans who don’t have the money to travel themselves. Keyleth and Percy originally don’t think they’re able to be home in time to watch due to the time difference, but a stroke of luck has them on Percy’s couch fifteen minutes before it airs, eating white cheddar cheese puffs and drinking wine, because they’re adults, for fuck’s sake.  
   
The band looks even better than they sound, which is really saying something, because they sound _incredible_. Vex has her signature blue feather in her hair and Vax has his black one, and they’re wearing matching leather jackets, black skinny jeans, and shoes with studs on them - though where Vax’s are boots, Vex’s...are stilettos.   
   
Percy’s face flushes bright red, and Keyleth, who’d been jokingly recording her own reactions like reviews, turns her camera on him to capture the moment. He’s sure his skin appears absolutely ridiculous against his white hair and scowls, raising a hand to block himself from view. She pats him on the shoulder and says, “Hang in there, Percy,” and then turns back to the television, zooming in on Vex’s heels.  
   
After they’re done, the host comes over to chat them up for a bit, asking about their Grammy win, how the tour is, where they’re headed. And _then_ , clearly as charmed by Vex as anybody in their right mind would be, he can’t resist a fake-but-not-so-fake proposal aimed her way.  
   
_“So, Vex’ahlia,”_ he says, charisma oozing out of him, _“you’re beautiful, famous, rich, royal...where’s a guy like me start trying to get to know you? I’ve only hosted the number one late night show on cable for the last ten years, but somehow I doubt that’s something that impresses you. Any advice?_ ”   
   
_“Well,”_ she says, smirking charmingly, fluttering her eyelashes, _“if you’d like to get to know me, you can read my Wikipedia page; it’s pretty thorough, and mostly accurate._ ”   
   
He laughs, a hand over his heart dramatically. _“Ouch! The sting of rejection--_ ”  
   
_“No, no,”_ she says diplomatically, now that her fun’s been had. _“In truth, my heart is someone else’s.”_  
   
Keyleth drops her phone entirely, which proves to be unfortunate; she’d missed an excellent and unforgettable shot of Percy staring blankly at the television screen as though someone had just called out his winning lottery numbers.  
   
\--  
   
**Chaney** @ _raspberryfieldsforever_  · 18m  
@suntree @vexxxed @lizzyisademon @cooleraid DID U SEE THIS OMGGGG   
_______________________________________  
**Music or Lose It** @ _musicorloseitmag_  
“My heart is someone else’s”: Vex’ahlia, lead singer of   
Vox Machina, confesses on late-night...  
   
**aya** @ _suntree_ · 15m  
_Replying to @raspberryfieldsforever @vexxxed @lizzyisademon and 1 other_  
I’M FUCKING LOSING IT I’M AT WORK I COULDN’T WATCH ASDGDSFG WHAT DID SHE SAY  
   
**RLY BACK ON MY BULLSHIT** @ _vexxxed_ · 15m  
_Replying to @raspberryfieldsforever @suntree @lizzyisademon and 1 other_  
YES IM HAVIGN A CORONARY LIKE !! SHE DID THAT !!! ON LIVE TV SHE DID THAT  
   
**RLY BACK ON MY BULLSHIT** @ _vexxxed_ · 14m  
_Replying to @suntree @raspberryfieldsforever @lizzyisademon and 1 other_  
AYA OMFGGGG she didnt say who or anything like it basically ended there but WE KNOW THE TRUTH…….  
   
**boo** @ _lizzyisademon_ · 13m  
_Replying to @vexxxed @suntree @raspberryfieldsforever and 1 other_  
#TheTruthIsOutThere  
   
**RLY BACK ON MY BULLSHIT** @ _vexxxed_ · 11m  
_Replying to @lizzyisademon @suntree @raspberryfieldsforever and 1 other_  
i did my waiting….twelve years of it…..in azkaban @imvexthatsvax pardon the interruption but WHO WERE YOU REFERRING TO  
   
**kait** @ _cooleraid_ · 10m  
_Replying to @vexxxed @imvexthatsvax @lizzyisademon and 2 others_  
SAM DID I SERIOUSLY JUST GET HERE IN TIME FOR YOU TO TAG VEX HERSELF DELETE THAT IMMEDIATELY   
   
**vex’ildan** @ _imvexthatsvax_ · 5m  
_Replying to @cooleraid @vexxxed @lizzyisademon and 2 others_  
;)  
   
\--  
   
“I think you killed them,” Pike says, scrolling through the thread. “They’re just screaming at each other incoherently.”   
   
Vex laughs, her feet stretched out across Vax’s lap, also following the drama. “At least I was nice about it. I mean, I winked, didn’t I? Isn’t that a dream come true for a fan of mine?”   
   
“Were you always this egotistical, or is that recent?” Vax asks, responding to a text from Keyleth containing only shocked cat emojis.   
   
She glances up, meets his eyes and smiles. “I like to think it was always.”   
   
He grins back warmly, and they come to a deeper understanding. “Me, too.”  
   
\--  
   
(“And you, Vax?” the host asks, because he’s good at his job and knows not to play favorites. “Where’s your heart at the moment? Any singers you’ve got your eye on?”   
   
He grins widely and says, “Actually, I’m more into actors these days. Us musicians are just so tortured and dull, right?”  
   
His remark falls under the radar due to Vex’s bombshell, but it’s okay. Keyleth hears it, and she knows, and that’s all that matters, anyway.)  
   
\--  
   
“ _I’ve been hearing some interesting rumors, Percival,_ ” is the first thing his sister says when he pulls her up on Skype.   
   
“Hello to you too,” he says, glancing her over through their pixelated connection. It’s his late morning, her night, and she’s already lounging in bed; he’s sitting at his dining room table, eating toast. “You’re looking well, Cassandra.”   
   
“ _I am well, thanks_ ,” she responds politely. “ _And if the rumors are true, you’re doing quite well yourself._ ”   
   
“Oh, I’ll bite,” he says. “What’ve you heard?”  
   
“ _Most recently, that you’re in some sort of a polyamorous relationship with twins from some rock band, and Keyleth,_ ” she says, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably. “ _The internet seems unable to agree on where your affections lie._ ”  
   
He sighs heavily. “Fame has its downsides.”   
   
“ _I’m waiting for the truth,_ ” Cassandra probes, adjusting her earphones. “ _Unless you’re attempting to tell me that really_ is _the truth, in which case, I must officially withdraw my support of your lifestyle to protect our family’s dignity, poise, and public perception._ ”  
   
“It’s only partly true,” he says, knowing she’ll pester him until he tells her. “They’re called Vox Machina - the band, that is - and Keyleth and I are...enamored with their frontrunners, who are the twins.”  
   
Her chin slips off her hand, intrigued. “ _Fascinating,_ ” she says. “ _So which twin is whose love interest? And this developed simultaneously?_ ”  
   
He’s strangely shameless on the subject; she’s his sister and he misses her, and he knows she’s curious because she cares about him. He says, “Oddly, yes. And there’s no scandal, I’m afraid, it’s rather traditional - Vax’ildan sometimes worries me with his enthusiasm for Keyleth, and, well, Vex’ahlia is quite...”   
   
“ _Quite,_ ” Cassandra repeats, teasing him. “ _Enchanting? Effervescent? Does she light up rooms, Percival?_ ”   
   
“Try stadiums,” he says, but he’s smiling.  
   
\--  
   
And then, the completely predictable but somehow unexpected happens:  
   
Keyleth begins gathering renown in a way she hasn’t before.  
   
She’s always been an incredible actress, but like Percy, had stuck to indie films and niche genres - but _Aramente_ finally drops at a festival and suddenly it’s all anyone can talk about. It’s sort of magical realism, the kind of story that allows critics to go nuts with their interpretations; she plays the daughter of a novel type of royal family, one that requires a personal journey of strength and self-discovery across the far reaches of the earth before a title can be taken. She’d agreed to the role because she’d felt so connected to the character, and was overjoyed at the amount of time she was able to spend in the wilderness while filming; Percy knows that many of her scenes where she takes in the world around her are genuine.   
   
She garners amazing reviews for her essentially one-woman performance - she’s the main character, and there are few recurring ones - and Kima is suddenly fielding an onslaught of offers for new projects.  
   
None of this really affects Keyleth, though; if anything, she’s just excited that she has the opportunity to do more of what she loves.   
   
What it _does_ change is the amount of time she now spends promoting it, as it’s gotten picked up by a major studio for distribution. She and her two co-stars - the only two that recur in the film, Kashaw and Zahra - appear on talk shows together, complementing each other in the strangest of ways, comical and enjoyable to watch.   
   
She and Percy have finally wrapped _Passed Through Fire,_ but the two of them know it’s going to be a trilogy and don’t have to face the reality of separation just yet. She still makes time for Vax in between promotions - it’s mostly just the month after the film drops, and then, she tells him, probably the week it’s due for a theatrical release - and he makes sure to watch every interview.   
   
And he notices Kashaw.  
   
_Kash,_ as Keyleth calls him. Kash staring at her a little too long, stone-faced and unreadable. Kash never reaching for her, but allowing her touch on him. Kash with a smile that can only be described as distant, except for when he’s talking to her.   
   
Vax recognizes the signs.   
   
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Vex says, watching their most recent interview on YouTube, her phone held to one ear, an earbud in the other. “Percy, what do you make of this?”   
   
She listens for a moment, clicking through her browser. “Of course,” she answers without explaining to Vax. He kicks her under the table just as their bus hits a bump, and accidentally hits harder than he’d intended.  
   
“Fuck, Vax!” she snaps, rubbing her shin. “Balls! That hurt, you fucker--”  
   
“Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all. “What’s he saying?”   
   
Vex rolls her eyes and lays her phone down, touching the screen. “Darling, you’re on speaker,” she says, “so save any inappropriate commentary for later. Ta.”   
   
Percy snorts. “ _I’ll try to control myself._ ”   
   
“Back to me, please,” Vax says.   
   
“ _I’ve met Kash a few times, and he’s - standoffish, I suppose is the word. No social skills whatsoever, but in an antisocial way, not like Keyleth’s tactlessness. I wouldn’t worry too much, even if he does like her, because she’ll never pick up on it. He’d have to really spell it out for her.”_  
   
“Look,” Vax says, “it’s not like I have any right to her, or something. I’m just wondering how she feels.”   
   
“ _Hasn’t even crossed her mind,_ ” Percy says definitively. “ _You’ve sort of consumed her, Vax, and I mean that as a compliment. She’s a little more grounded than she used to be._ ”   
   
“I won’t change course,” Vax says vaguely, “but I won’t stand in her way, either.”   
   
“ _I think that’s a healthy place to be,_ ” Percy answers.   
   
“Thanks, Freddie.”   
   
There’s a pause and then a noise of utter disgust. “ _Excuse me?_ ”   
   
Vex laughs loudly, and, well, Percy loses his edge.  
   
\--  
   
(Vex has her bad days.   
   
They’ll start with a memory. Just one, any one. Saundor's hands around her throat. An argument in a hospital hallway. The twinge of a bruised rib. A door slamming shut, rattling the windows.  
   
It’s not that she can’t go to Vax, but more as if she’d rather save him from his own guilt. She calls Percy and she says, “Bad day,” her breath coming and going in short, staccato patterns, her eyes burning and dry, and he’ll talk to her about _his_ day, his work, his life. Anything to get her to focus on him and not her own past.  
   
It’s what he’s doing when Vax sticks his head in her bunk and says, “Hey, I need you to watch this video and let me know if I have competition for Keyleth. Not that she’s a prize, I’m talking respectfully, as in, I’d just like to know where I stand, what I should be prepared for--”  
   
“Gods,” Vex says, Percy in her ear pausing midway through pondering the appeal of Las Vegas. “Okay, I’m coming. I’ve Percy, so if you ask nicely, perhaps he’ll share some insight.”   
   
Vax wanders back out to the kitchen. Vex murmurs, “Thank you.”  
   
“ _No need,_ ” Percy says softly. “ _I’m here for you. Always.”_ )  
   
\--  
   
None of them really count on Kash’s spontaneous nature.   
   
An interviewer asks him how he’s liked working with the cast, and he says, “Keyleth is the most annoying person I’ve ever met in my life. She’s so bubbly and happy-go-lucky all the time. It’s exhausting.”  
   
Everyone laughs, and Keyleth’s jaw drops, affronted, but she’s giggling too. Kash looks slightly confused, because he hadn’t been telling a joke, but, Percy thinks as he watches from the green room, it’s probably best it’d been interpreted that way.   
   
They come traipsing back to where Percy’s waiting (for moral support, of course) a few minutes later, and Keyleth is in the middle of saying, “You’re such a jerk, Kash; since when is being _happy_ a bad thing--”  
   
He stops just inside the room, contemplating her. “It’s not,” he says, and without warning, without agenda, he tugs her to him and kisses her.   
   
Percy blinks, not quite able to comprehend what he’s looking at, and then it’s over before he can.   
   
“Well,” Kash says gruffly, “see you around.”   
   
And he walks away, leaving her standing in the doorway with a stunned look on her face, like she’s just coming down from an out-of-body experience.   
   
“Um,” she says, and her eyes slowly travel over to Percy.   
   
“Erm,” he says in response, and attempts to shake himself out of it so that Keyleth can have her impending freak out against somebody solid. “Shall we...go?”   
   
She nods blankly, following him to the valet.   
   
\--  
   
(It takes ten minutes of driving home in Percy’s car before she suddenly exclaims, “What the _fuck_ was that about?!”   
   
“People like you,” Percy says unhelpfully. “Although _I’m_ not liking this trend of men kissing you without asking your permission. Technically, he sexually assaulted you.”   
   
Keyleth opens and closes her mouth like an exotic tropical fish. “Um,” she says again, “I think I’ll just talk to him.”)   
   
\--  
   
It turns out she doesn’t have to, because he approaches her first, sending her a text: _Hey. It’s Kash. Sorry I kissed you last night. I should have given you a chance to stop me. I’m not very good with people. Please accept my apology. I will not do it again. Unless you ask me to. Sorry again. Kash_  
   
“Well,” Percy says, because dealing with one socially unaware person is enough for him, and he doesn’t even know where to begin with two.   
   
“I’m gonna let it go,” Keyleth says. “I mean, he came forward and realized his mistakes on his own, and I at least appreciate that.”   
   
“Sure,” Percy says. “Are you going to tell Vax?”   
   
She turns her stare on him, wide and fearful, and the effect comes off as if her eyes have been blown up twice their normal size. “Do you think I should? I’ve been worrying about it, but, like, we’re not dating, I don’t know, I mean, is it something he needs to know about? Is he gonna find out anyway? Were there people watching? Did you tell Vex already?” She says all of this very fast and without breathing, as if she only has a spare bit of time before the end of the world.  
   
“Erm,” Percy says.   
   
“You’re right,” Keyleth says. “I should tell him. He’s been honest with me, I need to show him the same courtesy. I just don’t know what to say, you know? Like, how do I frame it? ‘Kash kissed me and though I was inappropriately flattered I didn’t like it’?”    
   
“That’s, ah--”  
   
“No, it should be in-person,” Keyleth continues fastidiously. “I should tell him to his face. He might think I’m rejecting him, and I’m totally not. I’m really not good with words, I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. I love him, you know? I’m working towards something. I don’t want to ruin our friendship where it is now, either. You’re right, Percy, you’re so wise. I’ll tell him when they’re in town next week. Thanks!”   
   
“You’re welcome,” Percy says, so exhausted from following Keyleth’s own internal-turned-external monologue that he actually feels as if he _has_ spent the last hour giving her advice. “I’m going to bed, I think. But I’m glad I could be of service.”  
   
\--  
   
The band’s due to arrive in Los Angeles within the week - they’re in Phoenix, and their San Diego stop is actually at the end of the tour, rather than following, at the twins’ own request - and their song is almost perfect. Vex and Vax have a furious debate over which show to play it at - Vax wants their last show; if it goes poorly, he argues, then they’ll be out of there the next day, and perhaps it won’t extend the sting of rejection - but Vex merely rolls her eyes and says, “Aren’t we trying to be _brave?_ ”   
   
“I’ve done that already,” Vax says immediately. “I did the whole ‘spill out my soul in public’ thing. Your turn.”  
   
“Fine, my turn,” Vex agrees, her palms flat against the wood as they stare at each other from opposite ends of the table. “I want to play it at the first show.”   
   
Vax frowns, but Pike shrugs and says, “Sorry, Vax, you kind of handed her that one.”  
   
“I know,” he grumbles, but acquiesces.   
   
\--  
   
**vax’ahlia** @ _imvaxthatsvex_ · 22m  
monday mood [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU)...  
   
**emo bitch** @ _ravensallover_ · 19m  
hey folks what are we thinking about the foursome today with this lil gem from our boi  
________________________________  
**vax’ahlia** @ _imvaxthatsvex_  
monday mood [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU)...  
   
**jack of spades** @ _georgiaisforlovers_ · 17m  
_Replying to @ravensallover @imvaxthatsvex_  
Wait n see who retweets it  
   
Keyleth Retweeted  
**vax’ahlia** @ _imvaxthatsvex_ · 28m  
monday mood [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU)...  
   
**jack of spades** @ _georgiaisforlovers_ · 14m  
_Replying to @ravensallover @imvaxthatsvex @keylethoftheair_  
Welp   
   
**emo bitch** @ _ravensallover_ · 12m  
_Replying to @georgiaisforlovers @imvaxthatsvex @keylethoftheair_  
lmao where’s tara  
   
**the legend of tara** @ _scarenrae_ · 10m  
_Replying to @ravensallover @georgiaisforlovers @imvaxthatsvex and 1 other_  
I SWEAR TO GOD,. IS IT JUST KEYLETH??? IS IT A FUCKIGN LVOE TRIANGLE??? WHAT IS IT   
   
\--  
   
_TO: Vax_  
_Totally not trying to read into anything but_  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_yesss?_  
   
_TO: Vax_  
_Was that for me?_  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_of course, i know ur fav bands :-)_  
   
_TO: Vax_  
_I don’t like to assume!_  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_kiki my life is full with u in it & all my music if for u_  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_is* for u_  
   
_TO: Vax_  
_< 3 _  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_< 3_  
   
_TO: Vax_  
_I wish I wasn’t alone tonight_  
   
_FROM: Vax_  
_i wish that most nights_  
   
\--  
   
Percy isn’t expecting it. Maybe that’s the worst part.  
   
He’s scanning through his Google news alerts casually while he waits for the car to pick him up and take him to the studio for an ADR session; now that the film’s in post it’s taking heavy scrutiny. _Brooklyn Off-Duty Police Officer Involved in DUI._ He flicks his thumb down the screen. _Fire Contained in Pasadena._ He swipes over to the U.K., as he does customarily to remind himself what he left behind, and what is still waiting for him should he choose it. _Brexit Negotiations.._. _Scottish Referendum...Anna Ripley, Notorious for the Mass Murder of the Royal de Rolo Family, Found Dead…_  
   
The world falls silent, still.   
   
He clicks on the article without even registering his own actions. _Posted ten minutes ago._  
   
He stares, and stares, and stares, but the words never change. It’s not a hallucination or a dream. The headline sits there, gloating, mocking him.   
   
_Anna Ripley…_  
   
The body, he thinks numbly. He wants to see the body. He needs the evidence, the photographic proof of her lying lifeless and cold and unmoving. Anything to get her sick, twisted smile out of his mind. Anything to stop her voice from echoing around his skull.   
   
_Percival..._  
   
There’s the distant memory of a fingernail, sharp underneath his chin. His phone drops from his hands, but he doesn’t hear it hit the floor.   
   
_You’re so clever, Percival. You’re so talented. You’ll do great things. I couldn’t sacrifice that._  
   
He slides down against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest, hands covering his ears. The knocking at his door fails to register; his phone remains unanswered and unnoticed. He sits and he rocks and he breathes, and he tries to keep himself alive.  
   
\--  
   
Percy doesn’t show up to record with her. He’s supposed to be there just after nine, an hour after her own call time, but the crew member who’d gone to pick him up returns alone.   
   
From the booth, she sees him talking to the director, who points out something on her phone and shakes her head, covering her mouth as she talks. Keyleth can’t make out what they’re saying, and asks, “Hey guys, everything okay? Any notes?”   
   
The director glances up and smiles; she presses a button and says, “Doing great, Keyleth. Actually, we’ve moved Percival’s slot to tomorrow - we’ve decided to bucket all your time for today, if that’s fine with you.”   
   
Keyleth sees nothing strange about the explanation and so she doesn’t pry for details. “No problem,” she says brightly. “Let me know when we’re ready.”   
   
“In three, two…” she signals for Keyleth to start, and leans over to the A.D. “Don’t give her enough of a break to check her phone today,” she murmurs to the other woman. “We don’t have the flexibility to lose time with both Keyleth _and_ Percival.”  
   
\--  
   
It’s five in the evening for Cassandra when Kynan pulls her aside; she’d been traveling, stuck in meetings all day, hadn’t even glanced at a screen in hours. He hands her his mobile wordlessly, fingers clammy and warm, and her lips part in a bare, uncontrollable slip of shock. The blood sinks back down into her heart and pools there, her face left white, a porcelain mask cracking.  
   
She asks unsteadily, “How could this _possibly_ have gotten out before we were even informed?”   
   
“I don’t know.”   
   
Her expression hardens. “Does Percy know?”   
   
Kynan swallows nervously. “I don’t know.”   
   
“Fuck,” Cassandra breathes out, already dialing his number. “This isn’t good.” It rings, and rings, and rings. She tries Keyleth and it’s the same; it rings, and rings, and finally goes to voicemail. “Keyleth, it’s Cass,” she says into the receiver. “Call me the second you see this, please. Talk soon.”   
   
“What can I do?” he asks, needing to be helpful. “Task me.”   
   
She furrows her brow, thinking of someone who may be there, accessible. “Actors,” she hisses, and it comes to her immediately. “So bloody unreliable. I need you to get me Vex’ahlia Vessar’s mobile. Her father is the Marquees of Reading. She’s in a band called Vox Machina. It shouldn’t be difficult.”  
   
A look of recognition crosses his features. “Understood.”  
   
\--  
   
Vex isn’t one to pick up calls from unknown numbers.  
   
Vax, fortunately, _is_ , and it’s his phone that rings just after ten-thirty in the morning as they’re checking out of their hotel. He slides to answer without thinking about it, barely comprehending the +44 code in front of the rest of the digits.   
   
“Hello?” he says, adjusting the strap of his backpack.   
   
“ _Vex’ahlia?_ ” a harried voice answers in response.   
   
“Wrong twin,” Vax says, now struggling with the buckle. “Who’s this?”   
   
“ _I need to speak with Vex’ahlia immediately. It’s imperative I get ahold of her. Are you Vax’ildan?_ ”  
   
He stops, straightening up slowly. “Yeah,” he says carefully. “Again, _who_ is this?”   
   
“ _My name is Cassandra de Rolo,_ ” she says, and he actually pulls the phone away from his ear to stare at it in surprise. “ _Hello?_ ”   
   
“Hi, yeah, erm, sorry, Your Highness, or - yeah,” he says, unaware of how to address her. “You - right. Vex. Okay. Uh…” He lowers the phone again and scans for his sister; she’s talking to Grog, lounging in one of the lobby chairs. “Hey, Vex!” he yells.   
   
She leans her head around Grog’s frame. “What?” she shouts back.   
   
“You - need to take this,” he says, holding up his cell. “Now.”  
She gets up obediently, padding over to him with a quizzical look on her face, and takes the phone. “Hello?” she says, and then for awhile she is quiet.   
   
He watches her expression shift from confusion to intense focus, something a bit like dawning horror hiding in the widening of her eyes. He can’t make out what Cassandra is telling her, but it’s frantic, worried. Answering a question he doesn’t hear, Vex says, “Yes,” followed by another pause, and then:   
   
“Yes, I’ll find him.”   
   
\--  
   
“Vex, this is _nuts,_ ” Vax says for the tenth time, trailing behind her furiously. “You can’t just _take off_ and not even tell us--”   
   
“I’ll meet you in L.A.,” she says, brushing him off as the doorman outside finds her a cab. “Vax, I’m sorry. I have to go.”   
   
“But _why--_ ”   
   
A car pulls up next to the curb and she throws the door open before the driver can think about getting out to help. She glances over her shoulder and says, “Don’t worry about me. See you tomorrow,” and then she is gone, speeding away from the hotel like her life is at stake.  
   
\--  
   
(Maybe it is, he realizes after, staring at Cassandra de Rolo’s contact details. Maybe it is.)  
   
\--  
   
Vex buys the first flight she can on whatever airline is leaving the earliest, and because she only has a duffle bag, she’s able to get on one ten minutes out from boarding. The man at the desk recognizes her, too, and it’s a rare moment where she’s grateful for fame rather than angry about it.   
   
She reads the news report while waiting at the gate, her heart sinking deeper with every word, the memory of Cassandra’s revelation fresh in her mind.   
   
“ _Vex’ahlia, I’m not sure what you’re aware of or not, but I don’t have time to respect his privacy at the moment and I know the two of you are close,_ ” she’d said. “ _Anna Ripley, the woman who murdered my family - our family - has died. She affects Percy differently than I, because she chose to keep him alive; she’d told him she was doing him a favor, and that she was going to create something beautiful out of him, out of his tragedy.”_ Even now, the idea has Vex’s skin and bone shivering out of tune with each other, like she’s shaking inside of herself. “ _She’d always been interested in him. She’d thought he was brilliant. And she was a sociopathic, deluded, evil woman._ ”  
   
She’d said, “ _I can’t get ahold of Percy._ ”   
   
She’d said, “ _Please, Vex’ahlia, I’m begging you. Find him.”_  
   
But Vex had started to move before Cassandra had even asked.  
   
\--  
   
The flight is an hour and a half of torture, every terrible circumstance and situation Percy may possibly be in playing like the b-roll of a film on loop. She’s so wired by the time she arrives at his apartment complex that she throws two hundred dollars at the cab driver, even though the ride had only cost her fifty.  
   
There’s no security to wrestle with, no difficult front desk management; Percy likes to be prepared, if nothing else. She marches up to the man sitting behind the counter and says with all the charm she can muster, “Hello, sorry to disturb you, but I’m Vex’ahlia Vessar - I believe Percival de Rolo mentioned I’d be staying with him this week and left me a key? I’m a few days early; I wanted it to be a surprise.” She slides him her I.D., not wanting to waste any time, and not even knowing if she has any time to waste.   
   
The man smiles kindly up at her and says, “Of course, Ms. Vessar. Welcome, and what a lovely surprise - I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” He reaches into his desk drawer and hands her a small envelope, the weight of the key heavy inside of it; well, Percy _does_ pay a fortune to live here, so it shouldn’t be any surprise that the staff are extremely well-trained and professional.   
   
“He’s on the eighth floor - 8A. There are only two apartments, so you can’t miss it.”   
   
She unlocks his door with her blood pulsing in all the wrong places. The pit of her stomach, the base of her skull, the bottoms of her feet, the creases of her elbows. It opens with a short _click,_ and then swings inward, and Vex is immediately relieved that he isn’t face-down in the entryway.   
   
The second thing she thinks is that his apartment is entirely too green for him, but exactly enough for Keyleth; another time, the observation will be amusing, but it isn’t now.   
   
“Percival?” she calls, and hears no answer in response. She doesn’t take her time. She rushes from room to room, searching him out; the fear of finding him doesn’t outweigh her need to find him. Library, work room, guest room...  
   
In the bathroom off of the master bedroom, the water is on, beating against the bowl of the sink.   
   
(As long as Vex lives, the sight of endlessly running water in stillness leaves her with a mark; an uncomfortable emptiness, and the sound of death.)   
   
She pushes the door open further, and hits something with a gentle _thud,_ and she has never faced anything as terrifying in her life as Percy’s limp body on the tiled floor, curled up in itself.   
   
“God,” she exhales, dropping to her knees, her hands immediately finding the pulse strong in his throat; it’s fast, actually, too fast, and he’s sweating through his clothes, forehead hot and clammy. “Christ, Percy, fuck--”   
   
He makes a low noise in his throat, but doesn’t move. She turns him onto his back, her palms, cupping his face, stroking his cheekbones, trying to get a response. “Percy,” she says, shaking him a little. “Percy, I need you to open your eyes, darling, please.”  
   
She glances around the bathroom, knowing he must’ve taken something to wind up in this state; she remembers horror stories, celebrities and their painkiller addictions, and tries to think of any recent injury Percy could’ve had that would’ve allotted him the same treatment--  
   
Her eyes fall upon a small prescription bottle by the sink, and she reaches for it, fearing the worst--  
   
She steadies herself on Percy’s shoulder. He grunts again, a cross between a groan and a word. She shakes the bottle and it rattles; it’s Percy’s anxiety medication, and it’s mostly full. She sighs, relieved; so, he didn’t overdose.   
   
Vex lifts herself up and fills a cup with water from the still-running sink. “Percy,” she says, “I need you to drink this.” She slips her hand underneath his neck, and with a disturbing, macabre thought, she realizes that the dead weight of a head is really quite heavy. “Percy,” she says louder. “Open your eyes.”   
   
And then she pours the ice-cold water onto his face.  
   
\--  
   
He blinks blearily and the world is upside-down, out of focus, shadowed in hues of grey. There’s something hovering above him, but he can’t make out what it is. His mouth is dry and dusty, and his skin feels liquidized, like it’s melting off of him, like it’s not there at all.  
   
“Percy,” a voice says. “Can you hear me?”   
   
“Yes,” he thinks he says, but it comes out sounding all wrong. “Yes,” he says again, louder but still nonsensical.   
   
The person’s fingers brush his hair away from his forehead. “Gods, Percy,” the voice says, and he _recognizes_ this voice. It’s a good one, full of gentle lulls and lilts, and not the horrible thing of possession he’d been hearing for the past few hours. He tries to center his gaze, but his eyelids are so difficult to hold open, and it doesn’t seem worth it.   
   
“Who?” he tries to ask, the word slurred.   
   
“Vex,” Vex says, staring down at him.   
   
“Vex,” he repeats, and grins to himself. “Nice dream,” he sighs.   
   
Something is slipped behind his ears, resting on the bridge of his nose.   
   
“This isn’t a dream,” she says softly. “Open your eyes, darling. Please.”   
   
So he does, and this time, it’s in focus.   
   
Vex is hovering above him looking every bit as beautiful as if he _had_ dreamed her up himself; she’s smiling and stroking his face with the tips of her fingers, tracing across his pronounced jaw line, his bottom lip, his cheekbones.  
   
“Vex,” he says, surprised, and it comes out sounding more and more like it’s supposed to.   
   
“Yes,” she says, and he’s startled to find tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m so happy to see you.”   
   
\--  
   
It takes her ten minutes just to get him to sit up, and even then he can’t do much more than that. He can’t seem to look at her for too long - she’s reminded of the first time they met, and the brutal contrast between then and now has her heart swollen in her chest - but it’s because of the tremendous effort it’s taking him to raise his head. He sits with his legs bent, one knee up and drawn in, breathing deeply through his nose.   
   
“Percy,” she says, reaching for his arm; he’s still clammy to the touch, and she doesn’t know much about caring for someone but she _does_ know she shouldn’t let him sit around in his damp clothes for much longer. His jeans seem fine, but the shirt’s soaked in water and sweat, and he’s started shivering. She tugs on the hem of it, attempting to get him to focus. “Dear, you’ve got to take this off.”   
   
He nods without looking at her, but doesn’t move.   
   
She tries again. “Is it alright if I help you?”   
   
Another pause, another nod, and then she kneels in front of him and carefully lifts his shirt over his head. The fabric sticks to his body in places, his muscles shaking like the movement costs him extraordinary effort. Her eyes trail down, inspecting him from a clinical angle. It’s unsettling to see a man so in-shape and well-defined unable to even stand.   
   
“I can stand,” he says haltingly, and for a moment she fears she’d spoken aloud, but it’s rather as if clarity in some regard is returning to him. “Need...a moment.”   
   
She rests a hand against the top of his head in an acknowledgment, straightening up, running over a checklist. She’s in survival mode, the fight side instead of flight. Fresh towels, she thinks. New shirt. Drinkable water. Bed. Company. She can handle all of those things.   
   
She rummages through his dresser and grabs the first things she finds: a white v-neck and a pair of sweatpants. She fills a glass from the filter in the sink and sets it on his nightstand. She pulls back the covers. And then she returns to the bathroom, where he’s holding onto the counter and trying to hoist himself up.  
   
Vex extends a hand. Percy looks at her and takes it, her fingers grasped tightly in his, and they’re both surprised to find that she can support his weight. Once he’s standing, he’s a little steadier, a little more alert; she takes one of the towels and drapes it around his neck, his shoulders, rubs the middle of his back. He lets her work, recognizing that she’s doing what’s good for him, fighting back against the impulses he has to not fight at all.   
   
It’s another twenty minutes until she gets him in bed. He manages to change into his sweats and stops there, still shirtless, but she doesn’t push him on it. She removes her jacket, kicks off her sneakers, undoes the braid from her hair; he watches from where he’s leaning against his side table, entranced. And then, before she can talk herself out of it, she unzips her jeans and rolls them down her hips, her thighs, pulling them over her feet and off. She doesn’t have an ulterior motive; she doesn’t intend on leaving him alone and they aren’t comfortable to sleep in.   
   
He stays silent, processing. She slips under his deep blue sheets, and says, “Come here.” She pats the space next to her as if he requires the visual reference to understand.  
   
After a moment, he says, “This isn’t how I...imagined having you in my bed the first time.” His hesitation, she realizes, comes from regret, and not from reluctance. He’d wanted to be better, not falling apart. That had been the point.  
   
“Percy, it’s okay,” she says gently, mirroring his own sentiment from that night on his couch back at him; it’d helped her for reasons she couldn’t explain, so maybe it’ll help him, too. “Come here.”   
   
He moves slowly, but he comes; he sits on the edge of the bed with one foot still planted on the floor, the other knee bent, resting flat. He stares straight ahead at the dark screen of the television and says, “You don’t have to do this,” but the drugs make it much harder for him to sound convincing.   
   
“I know,” she says, “but I want to,” and it’s not a lie.   
   
He lifts his other leg onto the bed, but still faces forward. “Why?” he asks.  
   
Vex bites her lip. “The same reason you’d do this for me,” she confesses, a shot not quite in the dark.   
   
She isn’t sure why she says it. She’s kept it to herself for so long and so well, content to burn, and burn, and burn. Maybe it’s time for confirmation of _something_ , if not the thing itself. Maybe it’s time they do what they promised to do months ago on a balcony in New York and tell the truth. Maybe it’s what he needs to hear.   
   
It catches him off-guard, exactly enough to finally get him to turn his body and meet her eyes, and the intensity in his stare is so staggering that she forgets any thoughts following. His pupils are slightly blown but it’s _him_ looking at her, not the ghost of a tortured boy from long before she knew him. He studies her with a clarity he doesn’t fully possess, and he seems to make a decision.  
   
He leans in towards her, supporting his weight with a palm flat against the bed, and _oh,_ my God, he’s going to kiss her. And even worse, she _wants_ him to.  
   
“Percy,” she whispers, and he’s so close she can feel him exhale against her lips. God, she wants him more than she’s ever wanted anything in her life, but she _can’t_. He’s playing directly into her own coping mechanisms. She understands misdirection of emotion better than anyone, and how it comes back to haunt. “If I thought it would help you, I would,” she states softly. “But I think you’d be angry with yourself, later.”   
   
“I just want to forget,” he says, voice so small and plain it breaks her heart again and again and again. “I can’t think about it anymore, Vex. It’ll kill me.”  
   
His elbow shakes against her, and he can’t hold himself up much longer; she wraps her arms around him, one hand cupping the back of his head, and pulls him against her like breaking against an ocean.   
   
The way his body falls into hers is almost graceful in nature; there are no hard edges or sharp corners, just his cheek pressing against her shoulder and his torso half-resting on top of hers, legs intertwined. He shudders slightly and adjusts his arms underneath hers, holding her in an embrace that quickly turns into a quiet sort of desperation.  
   
She lays her chin against the top of his head, running her fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp comfortingly. She asks, “Do you want to tell me about it?”   
   
“No,” he says against her collarbone, and then, “yes.” He breathes steadily for a second, composing himself to the best of his ability. “I want you to know everything about me.”   
   
He says, “Anna Ripley is dead.”  
   
She says, “I know.”  
   
He says, “I’m not, and sometimes I think that’s the problem.”  
   
\--  
   
(He spills everything out to her, whispers in a darkened room. She holds him tightly against her and he touches her skin to keep himself grounded. Sometimes she’s there, he rambles, like I can feel her watching me, like I hear her voice in my head, telling me how proud of me she is, how I’ve done such great things, how I’ll bring about so many more. How intelligent I am. How all I need is a tragedy to make me understand that I should be shared with everyone.   
   
Vex doesn’t bother pointing out that the rhetoric of a madwoman doesn’t make sense; he’s long since figured that out. It’s not what matters. What matters is that it was damning, shameful, blaming, celebratory. It carried an algorithm meant to break him as a person, warping his innocence into something worthy of punishment. Cassandra survived by accident, he says. She snuck out. It was supposed to be just me. Only me. It was my fault.   
   
But it wasn’t, Vex points out, her lips above the shell of his ear. You were young and impressionable and content with your life, and that doesn’t make you a fool, or somehow responsible.   
   
He’s hanging onto her every word, his tears hot and pooling against her shirt, body shaking with every breath. Maybe _this_ is what he’s been building to all along, what he’s been dreaming for: someone to simply hold him and let him cry.  
   
You’ve suffered a long time and a very great deal, she says, but you’re not alone anymore. I’m here.)  
   
\--  
   
It’s late afternoon when Keyleth’s session ends; they’d worked hard, focusing entirely on their task at hand, and so she’d felt it inappropriate to check her phone throughout the day. It’d actually felt _nice_ to disconnect for awhile, to be away from all the noise, the alerts, the responsibility. She leaves Percy a few doodles and comments on the script for his lines, thanks the director and assistant director, and finally powers on her phone.   
   
She’s hit with ten missed calls, three voicemails, and about forty texts from various numbers. It takes her a second of scrolling in complete confusion before she realizes she’s being asked about _Percy._  
   
Vax is responsible for at least fifteen of the texts and two of the voicemails, so she calls him without listening to anything, her blood suddenly flooding with adrenaline. She can’t think of anything _good_ that would force this level of contact, and she’s panicking by the time Vax answers with a visibly relieved, “ _Keyleth! Thank God, I haven’t been able to get ahold of anyone--_ ”  
   
“What’s going on?” she asks immediately, stepping out of the studio and towards the car waiting to take her home. “I haven’t been able to check my phone today, and I have all these missed calls and messages--”  
   
“ _Cassandra rang me,_ ” he says, and Keyleth stops walking mid-step, almost falling over at the unexpected twist. “ _She - I don’t know much, or what this all exactly means, but it’s all over the news - Anna Ripley is dead?_ ”   
   
Something cold pools at the base of her skull, the name alone sounds like a curse. “Anna Ripley is dead?”  
   
“ _Yeah, and Cassandra was worried about Percival, so she spoke to Vex for a few minutes and Vex took off,”_ he says. “ _She should’ve been there awhile ago, but I haven’t heard from her--_ ”  
   
“I should’ve known,” Keyleth says blankly, getting into the car. “Shit! I should’ve _known_ something was wrong when Percy didn’t show up for work - I thought - is he okay? _Damn_ it!”   
   
“ _Breathe, Kiki,_ ” Vax says, and the use of his nickname for her calms her somehow. “ _I_ think _Vex is with him. I haven’t heard anything to suggest otherwise._ ”  
   
“Change of plans,” Keyleth says to the driver. “Drop me off at Percy’s instead, but do you mind waiting for a few minutes?”  
   
“Not at all,” the man says with a polite nod.  
   
“I’ll go over there and let you know,” she says into the receiver. “I should’ve been there for him.”  
   
“ _Maybe,_ ” Vax answers vaguely, “ _but maybe not._ ”   
   
\--  
   
She doesn’t get what he means until lets herself into Percy’s apartment with her own key and finds nothing amiss.   
   
The silence is weighted down by _something_ , though, and it’s a strange feeling, sort of like she shouldn’t be there at all, like she’s intruding. She doesn’t call out his name; she glances between rooms, searching for signs. A bag in the living room. Kitchen cabinets open, glasses on the counter. His bedroom door is cracked slightly; she places a hand against it and peeks around--  
   
“You can come in,” a low voice says, “but be quiet, alright, Keyleth?”   
   
It’s Vex, stretched out in Percy’s bed, hair spilling across his pillow and his head resting against the nook of her shoulder, sleeping soundly. Her arms are around him and her eyes are red, drained, but she looks like she’s where she’s supposed to be.  
   
“Oh,” Keyleth says quietly, observing with a restrained type of relief. “You _are_ here. Good.”  
   
“Cassandra called me.”  
   
“I heard. Text your brother. He’s worried about you.”   
   
Vex’s eyebrows raise, but lower again just as quickly with a nod of understanding. “I will.”  
   
Keyleth doesn’t comment on the state of them; Vex’s fingers trailing up and down Percy’s bare back, her clothes strewn about the floor, the undeniable and unshakable truth of intimacy. She asks, “Is he alright?”   
   
“He wasn’t,” Vex says, “but he will be.”   
   
Keyleth doesn’t make a move to leave, but she doesn’t speak again, either. She hovers in the doorway, overcome and overwhelmed and _jealous._  
   
Vex says, “Whatever it is, spit it out. I won’t be offended.”   
   
“How can you _do_ it?” Keyleth asks, being given permission. “You just - hopped on a plane the second he needed you and - gave yourself over to him. Like, wholeheartedly. You didn’t even really know what was wrong, or what to expect, and you did it anyway. Why?”   
   
She can’t wrap her head around it, stumbling over the building blocks, all the roads and bridges; she wants to say she’s that kind of person, too, but she also wants to _know_ every facet of it, every secret and hidden piece.  
   
Vex smiles sadly at her. “I think you know exactly why.”   
   
_Love_ is suddenly sitting in the room with them, spread out across the bed, lounging in all the chairs, filling up the sink. Vex starts, “It might be careless to you.”  
   
“It is,” Keyleth says, “but that doesn’t mean anything.”  
   
“People who are going to hurt you will hurt you regardless of the walls you build,” Vex says gently.   
   
“So you shouldn’t even try?”   
   
“I knew there was a possibility I’d end up hurt today,” Vex says. “And I was. But not by anything Percy did - by things I couldn’t protect him from.” She absentmindedly strokes his hair while she speaks. “It’s impossible to protect yourself from everything, Keyleth, but aren’t there people you hold dear who _you_ want to protect? People who _you_ want to keep safe, and you’d do so, without a second thought to yourself?”  
   
“Of course.” Her eyes fall to Percy, breathing steadily, and her heart wanders to Vax. _Of course_ she wants to keep him safe, wants him to stop torturing himself, gathering up burdens like toys.   
   
“So doesn’t it then hold that there are people who want the same for you?” Vex says. “Percy and I - we’re fighting to protect each other, but for us, it sometimes means protecting each other from ourselves.” She hesitates before continuing. “You, on the other hand, aren’t trying to protect yourself as much as you’re simply...afraid, I think.”   
   
“Afraid of what?”   
   
“Losing someone,” Vex says. “You’re afraid that if you have Vax, you can also _not_ have him, and you’re trying to convince yourself it isn’t worth it.”  
   
“No, I--” Keyleth interrupts, and stalls, wringing her hands together. “It _is_ worth it, but I guess - yeah, I am afraid of...knowing what it’s like to not be alone, and then have to be alone again.” She gestures to Percy, still sound asleep. “I _get_ it with you, Vex. Like, I get the two of you have this - this deeper understanding. But Vax is...the kind of guy who runs blindly into burning buildings without even knowing if anyone is inside to save. And me - I’ll save people but I won’t die for nothing.” She grimaces. “Sorry, I know that was convoluted, I’m not the best with metaphors--”  
   
“No, I think I understand,” Vex says, but lowers her voice notably when Percy shifts his head. “You’re afraid you’re going to lose him to - what, his own spontaneous, self-sacrificial nature? That he’ll take something on too big for him, or...”   
   
“Something like that,” Keyleth concedes. “I feel like Vax is always - searching for the next thing to punish himself for.”  
   
“So give him somewhere new to go,” Vex says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You don’t want him running into fire - fine. Let him run to you instead.” Keyleth frowns at the advice, because it seems like addressing part of the problem and not the whole thing. Vex continues, “He’s learning to stand up for what’s important to him, and you’ll be first on that list if you give him the chance. Keyleth, he’s devoted to you.”  
   
“I know,” Keyleth says, because she does. “I know.”   
   
“You’re afraid,” Vex repeats, softer. “Reasons look a lot like excuses when you whittle them down.”  
   
“So are you,” Keyleth says, “or you would’ve told Percy already. And maybe that’s fine. Maybe it’s okay to be afraid as long as you don’t intend to let it stop you.”  
   
“Maybe,” Vex agrees. “Do you intend to let it stop you?”   
   
“No,” Keyleth decides. “Do you?”   
   
“No,” she says, voice quieting, looking down at the boy in her arms. “No, I don’t.”  
   
Keyleth rests a hand on the door frame, smiling, eyes averted away. “Good luck,” she says as she backs out of the room. “To _both_ of us.”  
   
\--  
   
(Keyleth leaves and the apartment is once again silent, no television hum, no running fan.   
   
_So are you._ Vex hears Keyleth’s accusation like she’s still standing there, shouting it at her. _Or you would’ve told him._  
   
It isn’t that simple, she wants to say, but there’s no one left to argue with. It isn’t, it isn’t, it isn’t.   
   
It is.  
   
Percy has an arm slung across her waist, and his face is peaceful, dreamless. Nobody has ever seen him this exposed, vulnerable by his own choice, and he has let her in as if there were never even a lock. She touches her lips to the crown of his head.  
   
“I should’ve told you,” she murmurs into his hair. “It’s yours.”)  
   
\--  
   
Keyleth calls him as she slides back into the car, and Vax answers on the second ring. “ _Hey.”_  
   
“Hey. I saw them both,” she tells him. “They’re fine. She’ll text you soon.”   
   
He sighs in relief. “ _Oh, good. Thanks, Kiki._ ”  
   
“No problem,” she says, and works a fingernail in between her teeth, caught up in thought; Vex had given her a lot to contemplate. She can’t get the image of them out of her mind, curled up together, damaged and hopeful and whole. She says, “I get what you meant, by the way. When you said maybe it was good it wasn’t me who got the call.”   
   
“ _Yeah?”_  
   
“Yeah,” she says, gazing at the palm trees peppering the skyline outside her window, streets flying by. She presses the tips of her fingers against the glass.  
   
“ _Why?_ ”   
   
It’s almost wrong to say, like a confession that isn’t hers. “Because she loves him,” she says.   
   
Vax is quiet for a moment. “ _I know._ ”   
   
“That means something, doesn’t it.”   
   
It’s not really a question, but he answers anyway. “ _Yeah,_ ” he says wistfully. “ _It does._ ”  
   
\--  
   
When Percy drowsily stirs from sleep, he’s disoriented and sluggish and not quite sure where he is, but he’s pressed up against something warm and alive, breathing slowly.   
   
He blinks his eyes open into a mess of dark hair and the dim glow of a phone screen; painted blue nails tap out a message just above his shoulder, and then a hand drops, stroking up and down his arm as if it’s out of habit.   
   
It doesn’t hit him all at once - it passes over him slowly, like waves that foam at the tip and never quite crash. _Vex._ Vex hovering over him, holding him. Vex leading him to bed. He becomes acutely aware of his left arm, tucked between their bodies, hand laying against her bare thigh. Vex’s face, getting closer and closer--  
   
He sighs against her collarbone, and she stills, setting her phone down. She whispers, “Percy?”   
   
“Mm,” is all he can make out, groggily trying to pull himself out of it. He lifts his head carefully, and with a groan, immediately drops it onto his pillow and off of her shoulder, sliding onto his back.   
   
She mirrors him by rolling onto her side, one hand on his chest, eyes tracing his face. “Are you - awake?” she tries again. “Are you alright?”   
   
“Yes,” he says, and after a period of stillness, reaches blindly for his glasses sitting on the nightstand, almost knocking over the water in the process. “Just...out of sorts.”   
   
She’s silent as he lifts himself up, angling his back against the headboard. He takes a moment to blink against the sudden clarity of his vision, shaking his head lightly, like it’s full of loose parts, metal rattling around. He grips the glass of water and she tracks his movements sharply, the bob of his throat as he drinks, his muscles flexing.  
   
He won’t keep her waiting any longer, no matter the oppression of his lethargy. He says, “I owe you an explanation,” setting the glass back down.   
   
“Alright,” she says, put a little more at ease after hearing him speak.   
   
“I had a - panic attack,” he says tentatively. “It was...the worst I’ve had, I think, ever. And I couldn’t remember...if I’d taken my medication. So I kept taking it without realizing. I couldn’t - I couldn’t see, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t hear.” He clears his throat, sparing her a short glance and down. “I wasn’t trying to--”  
   
“I know,” Vex interrupts so he doesn’t have to say it. “I - had the thought, briefly, but I somewhat figured it out.”   
   
“I’m sorry,” he tells her plainly, spreading his fingers, palms facing up and then contorting into fists.   
   
“You don’t have to apologize,” she says, but she sits up and she’s close again, almost against his side, and he thinks of how he almost destroyed them both.   
   
“No, I do,” he says, and reaches up, taking her chin in his hand gently. It’s not the time for shame. “I shouldn’t have tried to...kiss you. You did the right thing.”   
   
Her teeth tug on her bottom lip, and she exhales in breath shorter than it should be. She says unsteadily, “I almost let you.”  
   
“I know,” he answers softly, and his hand drifts to her hair, wrapping a curl around his fingers.   
   
She releases her bottom lip and it’s red, slightly swollen. She looks at him from under her eyelashes, and he suddenly is hit with what she’s implicating. She says, “Percy, I was so close. I almost - I almost ruined this with you.”   
   
“But you didn’t,” he says, and senses the need for weightlessness. “And thus, I’m here, awake and coherent and perfectly capable of stopping you from jumping me, should your unhealthy method of handling stress rear its head again.”   
   
At that, she finally laughs, angling her neck and resting her cheek against the palm of his hand. “Well, in _that_ case…” she trails off dryly. Her eyes are shining and her heart is still frantic, fluttering. “Now I’m convinced you’re feeling a bit better.”  
   
He observes her casually for a moment, as if from a great distance, finding the cracks. “Do you want to talk about it?”   
   
“This isn’t about me,” she says.   
   
“It can be about us both,” he says. “I’ve had my time. Please, distract me.”   
   
She pulls the sheet back up over his hips, aware of how little she’s wearing, and hunches over her knees. Her hair flows down her spine, against her shoulders, curling and wild. She starts slowly, “I haven’t actually - acted on it as much as it seems like I have. I don’t just...fuck people. But for awhile after - after Saundor - I’d seek it out, you know, the detachment, the roughness. I didn’t know how to...feel anything else. And I’d remember that I was real and that I was - desireable, I guess.” She’s leaning closer to him without realizing it, drawing comfort and stability from his presence. “But with you...it’s different. I won’t say I don’t want you to want me, because I do, but when I look at you--” she breaks off suddenly, her thought losing its way. She struggles momentarily and says, “I want _you_ to be real.” There’s a long pause populated by only the two of them staring at each other. “And I want to know that - there’s a difference between using someone, and someone...caring about you.”   
   
He watches her with eyes that never judge and a body that simply listens; he doesn’t ask for more than she’s giving, and he doesn’t pull her closer. He merely strokes her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, and then says, “Thank you for telling me.”  
   
“I want you to know everything about me,” she echoes, aching for reasons she can’t comprehend.   
   
“I want _you_ ,” he says bluntly. “I didn’t - return the sentiment before, but I do, Vex. How could I not?” He brushes over her bottom lip, still red, like it’s beckoning him. “But more than that, I don’t want to hurt you. And I want to be the person who shows you the difference between - being used, and something with - real emotion as the motivation.”   
   
Vex smiles, genuine and quiet, something reserved for only him to see, and says, “As long as we’re on the same page.”  
   
“We are,” he says. “And as for me - I’ll tell you the rest when I’m ready. When I know how I feel about - _her_ \- and why I feel it, you’ll be the first person I’ll come to. Or second, depending on when I meet with my therapist.”  
   
“I’m flattered,” she teases without malice.  
   
“First, then,” he replies decisively, kidding. “After all, _she_ probably didn’t even bother to call. You flew across state lines. There’s a clear winner.”   
   
“Charming.” She rolls her eyes at the bravado, and then, sensing the need for distance - not from each other, but from their problems - she says, “Well, it’s almost six and I’m famished.” She gathers her hair at the nape of her neck and ties it into a sloppy bun. “Thai alright with you?”  
   
She slips out of bed, facing away from him, and she can almost _feel_ his gaze fall to her ass. She turns and smirks over her shoulder at him, and he flushes, unable to avert his eyes in time.   
   
He says, “Erm.”  
   
“What,” she says, “never seen an attractive woman in her underwear before, Percival?”   
   
“Not that I can ever remember,” he says stupidly, like he’s just letting whatever words he has stockpiled in his mouth fall out of it.  
   
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be a distraction,” she says nonchalantly, and opens his first drawer, remembering where his clothes are organized from her earlier search. They’re mostly boxer briefs, but she finds a navy pair of boxes with white dots on them and slips them on, rolling them over her hips. “Do you have a normal delivery place, or should I Google it?”   
   
He’s speechless for a solid thirty seconds - she’s left the room entirely and is standing in the kitchen with her phone when he finally appears from the hallway behind her.  
   
“Good God, woman,” he says, shaking his head. “I guess it’s true what they say about rock stars.”   
   
“I’d suppose similar things are said about movie stars,” she shoots back, grinning, and even though they’re both exhausted, emotionally drained and bodies bruised instead of broken, the world feels conquerable.  
   
\--  
   
**Percival** @ _PercivaldeRolo_ · 36m  
Like Real People Do - Hozier  
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms)  
   
**aya** @ _suntree_ · 25m  
um  
_______________________________________   
**Percival** @ _PercivaldeRolo_  
Like Real People Do - Hozier  
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms)  
   
vex’ildan Retweeted  
**Percival** @ _PercivaldeRolo_ · 48m  
Like Real People Do - Hozier  
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms)  
   
**aya** @ _suntree_ · 7m  
_Replying to @imvexthatsvax @PercivaldeRolo_  
UM  
   
\--  
   
(She’s leaning on her elbows against his kitchen island, one foot kicked over her other ankle, scrolling through her phone. She’s since put on his sweater while waiting for their food to be delivered, and as he approaches from the hallway, freshly showered and fully clothed, he hears the song he’d tweeted playing through her speakers.  
   
She doesn’t hear him coming, but straightens her spine, adjusting her weight between feet. He steps up behind her, chest pressed against her back, and places his hands flat against the marble, arms on either side of her body. She starts slightly, arching her neck, and he realizes just how much taller he is, how easily he envelopes this lithe woman in front of him. He thinks about being somebody bigger, not in size but in spirit, in heart. Somebody who can keep her safe.  
   
He doesn’t speak for a moment, letting her settle comfortably into him. Finally, he lowers his lips to the shell of her ear and murmurs, “Thank you.”  
   
She rests the back of her head against his shoulder and the music plays on.)  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. i just want to say thank you to the incredible response i continuously receive on this fic, and because of that, i'm finally posting at least the next section i'd had written. i don't know if i'll ever finish it - i'd love to, because i do have the ending written - but when i posted this originally, i'd worked so hard and kind of didn't get the response i'd hoped for at that point in time and found it hard to continue. BUT you've all left some really inspiring and incredible comments the past few months and so i want to at least post the next 20.5k words as a thank you. :) <3
> 
> also, finally, their playlists:  
> [vex's playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/explosivesky/playlist/3qcMXgKTzOVWQ5ZyZjKn5s?si=v4PAulAeQ8aYA4M0GQYJJg)  
> [vax's playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/explosivesky/playlist/1u2aLxzpdcESVYVYdfV47l?si=wO6DcD4mTEK_SlvtM_qPMw)  
> [percy's playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/explosivesky/playlist/3ul5Yr39kQSqnZkeKgjYnh?si=1Zsa1gQBQy6I0ldAekhSUA)  
> [keyleth's playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/explosivesky/playlist/1oAf4RM9wx6WUi7jbftI4M?si=vtl9LxVhQvOFrlY0OI3yUg)

_FROM: brother dearest_  
_well no1 saw u so ur good there at least. i told gilmore who i think also rang percys agent just in case but it was so spur of the moment - dont think ppl were lookin 4 it_

_TO: brother dearest_  
_thanks vax. sorry i ran off on you like that. but i couldn’t risk it._

_FROM: brother dearest_  
_i get it_

_FROM: brother dearest_  
_is he ok_

_TO: brother dearest_  
_yes_

_FROM: brother dearest_  
_r u_

_TO: brother dearest_  
_honestly?_

_TO: brother dearest_  
_it’s strange, but i am, and that is the truth_

_FROM: brother dearest_  
_good. love u stubby_

_TO: brother dearest_  
_love you too. see you soon_

\--

The rest of the band arrives the next day - there’d been a ghost town Pike had insisted they stop to check out on their way, extending the drive, but they’d had time in their schedule and no objections from Gilmore. It turned out to be fascinating - an old gold mining town that’d been classified as a historic site, still kept up, but eerily untouched by time. _Cool, isn’t it,_ she’d said, and he’d agreed but added, _You’re giving Vex more time, aren’t you?_

 _I don’t know what you’re talking about,_ she’d answered nonchalantly. _Hey, I bet this building’s haunted. Let’s check it out._

She’d moved on and he’d let it happen. He knows he isn’t the only one who has Vex’s interests at heart. 

By the time they’re in Los Angeles, Vax has decided to take a step; towards the sand, towards the ocean, towards the sun, towards the future. He doesn’t run to Vex, like he normally would’ve. His destination is closer to the earth.

“Can you drop me off here?” he asks, and reads the address aloud. “I Google Mapped it. It should be on our way to Scanlan’s.” 

The driver has no qualms about it, and half an hour later, he’s standing the lobby of Keyleth’s apartment building, the front desk manager side-eyeing him and his disheveled state rather strongly. 

He walks up to the man and says, “Hey. I’m a friend of Keyleth’s. Am I allowed up, or…?”

“Are you a registered guest?” the man says, professional enough to keep his doubts out of his tone.

“I actually don’t know,” Vax answers. “Perhaps? My name is Vax’ildan Vessar. Do you check I.D.’s, too?” The man’s brow furrows deeper, and he exchanges a look with the security guard standing near the elevators. Vax realizes that they think he’s some crazed fan who’s discovered his favorite actress’s address, and _that’s_ a train of thought he’d like to stop immediately. He holds up a hand. “You know what? It’s no bother. I’ll just ring her up.” 

He turns away from the manager, who seems bemused but definitely less suspicious, somewhat mollified. He pulls up Keyleth’s number and dials, and fortunately for him, she answers on the third ring. “ _Hey! Are you in town yet?_ ” 

“Hey,” he greets back warmly. “I’m actually in your lobby. These men possibly think I’m here to attack you, so I deemed it best to alert you of my presence.” 

She makes a strangled noise in her throat, disbelief and a giggle. “ _I’ll be right down,_ ” she says.

He ends the call and turns back to the man, who now seems more bewildered than anything else. “There you are,” Vax says. “She’s coming for me.”

“That’ll do,” he says politely. The security guard keeps an eye on him, but doesn’t do anything else.

A moment later, the elevator dings, and Keyleth steps out, looking as radiant as ever; she throws her arms around him and he lifts her up, overjoyed. 

“Ah, Keyleth,” Vax says, smiling warmly at her as he lowers her down. “I’ve missed you.” 

Her cheeks pinken, as they tend to do whenever he’s staring at her with such unadulterated love in his eyes. A single look is enough to remind her.

She takes his hand and turns to the front desk. “Hey, Cam - this is Vax. He’s actually famous, too; he’s in a band, so you can like, Google him if you need to. He’s staying with me for a few days.” 

“Understood, madame,” he says, inclining his head, and Keyleth drags Vax back into the elevator, embarrassed of his smile. 

\--

Keyleth’s apartment is green, and smells strongly of mint and lavender.

She has flowers potted under her windowsills - every windowsill - and her balcony is filled with orchids. Hanging gardens create a sky of her living room. Her bedroom is littered with succulents like the ones that had been in her trailer - there are certain places you don’t exactly want to get dirt all over, she says - and it’s so wonderfully _her,_ so authentic and pure, that he can’t help but be drawn to it all. He’s never been as much as an outdoorsy type as his sister, but Keyleth, he thinks, is getting him to look at the world in a different slant of light. 

After the quick tour, she shows him where to drop his bag and then asks, “So, what d’you wanna do?” 

“You’re the native,” he says, grinning. “Why don’t you take me out?” 

“Like, on a date?” she asks.

“A day-te,” Vax enunciates, and laughs at his own pun before he’s even explained it. “Out for the day on a date. Sort of.” 

She rolls her eyes and smiles, but he notices an underlying vibe that hasn’t been there before; the curl of her mouth isn’t anxious, or unsettled, but resigned in a way that suggests contentedness. Like he’s become something she’s accepted. He’s not sure what to make of it, or if it’s even truly there at all. 

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll take you out.” 

\--

(They wind up at Venice Beach with the rest of the hippies; it’s a place full of recklessness and artistry and transparent appreciation for life. It’s a beautiful day, she says, but it’s always a beautiful day. They walk along the boardwalk, passing over painted porcelain skulls and hand-crafted wooden turtles, tarot cards and crystal balls and beckoning psychics, sheet metal signs for cars and cereals and 50’s movies. Vax watches Keyleth and she _belongs_ here, glittering among the palm trees and palisades, piers and strip malls, seas and stars winding over boulevards. Keyleth looks like she’d been birthed from the earth and environment of California itself, its deserts and valleys and forests and fires, the winding roads of Mulholland Drive and steep hills of San Francisco, the towering groves of redwoods and the snow-tipped mountain peaks. 

They traipse along the shore, barefoot in the wet sand and retreating tide, holding hands. She picks up seashells and he says he’ll make her a necklace of them. The sun sets into the water, refracting light into hues of orange and pink and red cracking across the surfacing, and she stands tall against the ocean, hair billowing around her face in the wind and waves licking at her toes, drenched in dying sunlight. 

I love the sea, she says. It’s so powerful and boundless. It’s scary, but comforting to look at something that goes on forever.

She says, I miss my mother, you know?

Keyleth, he says, because he can’t not, Keyleth, I _love_ you.

She turns to him and her smile is better than any sunset, but it is at war inside of her. Her eyes drop to the sand and then dart up to his lips, her arms crossed over her body. She moves a step closer to him, kicking sand over his feet, and she takes his face in her hands, staring, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. She’s a mirror of that ocean behind him, open and endless and a current that runs strong beneath.

She seems to be waiting for something, eyes darting between his; he can only smile, soft and understanding. 

Vax, she finally murmurs, I love you.

What? he says.

I love you, she repeats, and I have for a long time.

He barely comprehends her words before her mouth is on his and she’s kissing him, lips like salt and strawberry, palms flat against his cheeks; he wraps his arms around her lower back and smiles into her, and she laughs, laughs, laughs. 

He kisses her again and somehow he never thought he’d be here, standing under a dream of a pink sky with infinity crashing around him and the entire sun in his hands, but he is; _let it be_ , he thinks, _let it be._ )

\--

Vex sleeps the entire time Percy’s at work, but he returns with real Mexican food from his favorite restaurant on the corner of his block, tossing a tightly foil-wrapped burrito into bed with her. It’s the smell the forces her awake, stretching against his mattress, her shirt riding up over her ribs. 

He sighs; she squints at him through one eye, too content to move. “Wow, breakfast in bed?” 

“It’s three in the afternoon,” he says dryly as he sheds his shirt, swapping it for a grey v-neck. She watches his shoulder blades gliding smoothly underneath his skin appreciatively and bites her lip. “It’s sweltering out there,” he explains, oblivious.

“But you stopped and bought me food anyway?” she asks, not for confirmation of the event, but for his shy embarrassment of it. She picks up the burrito and reads the ingredients - chicken, guac, brown rice, lettuce, pico de gallo, sour cream...she remembers ordering Chipotle with him on the phone more than once, but she’s somewhat startled that it’s something he chose to retain.

“I refuse to let you starve whilst in my care,” he says mildly. “Plus, I rather like you.” 

He throws her a grin and the back of her neck burns, her blood hot against her veins. She doesn’t say it, but she could get used to this; the ease of familiarity, the fondness, the attention.

He says, “Coming, dear?” 

On second thought--

“I could get used to this,” she says, slipping out of bed and brushing by him into the hallway, keeping her smile to herself.

\--

Keyleth’s apartment at night feels close. All the plants look like shadows with the lights off, strange bouquets of arms, flowers with fingers, the smell of magic. “Maybe that’s it,” Vax says. “You’re a witch in another life.”

“A witch?” she repeats, intrigued, guiding him to her room. 

“Yeah,” he says. “You use the earth’s energy and you channel the elements. You make potions out of herbs and you can shapeshift. And you only use your powers for good.” 

“That sounds nice,” she says, entertained. “And what would you be, in this situation?” 

He ponders it a moment. She flicks on her bedroom lamp - it’s one of those Himalayan salt rocks - and the room inhales, awash in a dim orange glow. She steps over his bag by the door and tugs her hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall down her back.

“Witches have familiars, right?” he says, standing in her doorway.

“Yeah,” she says, opening her dresser, throwing him a cute smile. 

“That’s what I’d be,” he says. “I’d be your raven.”

\--

(The silence turns itself up, as if on a dial. Keyleth straightens up and looks at him, quizzical, questioning, like she’s suddenly wondering just _why_ he’s standing there, what pocket universe he appeared from. She’s holding a shirt in her hand, but she lets it drop back into the drawer.

She steps towards where he remains unmoving, and takes in a breath, stare darting between his eyes like she’ll find the truth in them, or like it’s already there and she’s trying to pull it out. Another second, and she rests her hands against his chest, his heart pattering like rain underneath her lifeline.

I don’t think I want to be alone tonight, she whispers, fully aware of the implications. 

I haven’t wanted to be alone most nights, he says, and he lets her tug him gently into the room, shutting the door behind him in a moment he wants to keep entirely for himself.)

\--

 **vax’ahlia** @ _imvaxthatsvex_ · 13m  
throwback thurs https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZaK37dheCM...

 **ariAHna** @ _somethingblack_ · 6m  
_Replying to @imvaxthatsvex_  
vaxildan my emo son it is four in the morning in la

Keyleth Retweeted  
**vax’ahlia** @ _imvaxthatsvex_ · 20m  
throwback thurs https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZaK37dheCM...

 **ariAHna** @ _somethingblack_ · now  
_Replying to @imvaxthatsvex @keylethoftheair_  
KEYLETH IT IS FOUR IN THE MORNING IN LA

\--

“You _know_ how suspicious that looks, don’t you,” he says fondly, grinning up at her.

“It’s not a dream,” Keyleth murmurs, laying on her side, head propped up on her elbow. She’s outlined his face with her fingertips like she’s coloring him in, like instead of black he’s now shades of purple, dark blue, the hues of midnight. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 

He takes her hand in his and presses his lips to her palm, a gesture too soft and precious for her to feel without crying. “It’s okay,” he says, and tries to stop her tears before they start. “We’re both here now. Naked.” 

It works; she giggles instead, the shine of her eye a little more of a spark. “Honestly,” she confesses, “I’m glad I - did this with you, first, but I also just kind of like being here with you, doing nothing.” 

He curls his fingers in her hair and pulls her down to kiss him, and it doesn’t bother him at all, couldn’t trouble him less. “Honestly?” he says. “Me, too.”

\--

“You _slept_ with _Keyleth?!_ ” is this first thing out Vex’s mouth when Vax finally sees her backstage at the Greek for their set-up and soundcheck on Friday late afternoon. Pike and Grog raise their eyebrows at each other, and Scanlan whistles lowly. 

“How did you even _know_?” he says incredulously, playing right into her trap. 

“Oh, bad move,” Scanlan says. 

“Yikes,” Pike says. 

“I _didn’t_ until you confirmed it _just_ _now_ ,” she seethes, glaring at him accusatorily, and throws her hands up in the air. “My own brother, doesn’t even bother to update me on his romantic endeavors, makes me wait to see the love and satisfaction _oozing_ out of his eyes--” 

“Wait a minute,” he says, recognizing this form of dramatism. “Are you _jealous_?” 

“Of course not,” Vex answers, jealously. 

“He nailed it,” Pike says. 

“Vex is jealous of Vax?” Grog asks.

“No, she’s jealous because she didn’t get that far with Percy,” Scanlan explains.

“That’s enough from the peanut gallery over there, thank you very much,” Vex says, huffing angrily. It’s no fun when she’s called out early. “Whatever. I’m thrilled for you. Now you can play the song and there’s nothing at stake and you and Keyleth will get married and live happily ever after.” 

Vax throws an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him and giving her a noogie with his knuckles. She steps on his foot in protest, but he doesn’t let up. “Oh, relax,” Vax says. “You’re being dumb. _I’m_ supposed to be the dumb one. Why are you being such a dummy?” 

“I’m going to die alone,” Vex moans theatrically from underneath his arm. 

Even Pike rolls her eyes. “Vex, honey, you’re gonna be fine.” 

\--

Percy and Keyleth are in the very front, relaxing in VIP boxes reserved for season ticket holders or band connections. It’s a cute setting, a little area with a table and chairs, and they’ve brought their own wine and cheese (among other pretentious snacks) for the night, mostly as a joke. 

The theatre is packed - people are up and about during the opening act, getting beer and food and talking to friends - and Keyleth takes a momentary pause between songs to say, “I had sex with Vax,” and Percy nearly chokes on a small pickle. 

“You--”

“Yeah.”

He blinks at her. “Well,” he says.

“I know,” she answers.

“Did you...enjoy yourself?” he asks, taking a stab in the dark. He’s not sure what aspects she’d like to discuss.

“It was - good, but I’m not sure it’s my thing,” she says. The band takes that moment to start up again, jamming into a hard rock. 

“Fair enough,” Percy shouts. “Are you - together now?” 

“I don’t know,” Keyleth yells back. “We didn’t really...talk about it. Like, we had sex and then hung out, I guess, and it was nice.”

Percy had never imagined how difficult this conversation would be to have. “Well,” he says again. “Do you _want_ to date him?”

“I mean, yeah,” she says, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers. “I kind of thought that was the point of like, telling him I loved him.” 

“Wow,” Percy says. He thinks of Vex in his room, in his clothes, in his bed. “I don’t really think you have much to worry about. He’s - in love with you.” 

“True.” She reaches for the plate of food, brow still furrowed in thought.

“Did you tell him about Kash?” he asks, because he’d actually rather yell at her than focus his attention on whatever animal is dying onstage and attempting to claim it as music. 

She drops the piece of cheese she’s holding. 

“Oh, shit,” she says blankly. 

“I don’t think you really have to worry about _that,_ either,” Percy says, before she has a coronary. “Keyleth, everything’s gonna be fine.” He eyes the brie on the ground. “Please don’t waste any more cheese. It’s expensive, and we’re both very poor.” 

The absurdity of the joke and his deadpan delivery snaps her out of it, and she laughs, happy to focus on other things.

\--

 _Their_ band finally steps out after what seems like forever of the sound of trashcans banging together - at least, to Percy - and in the darkened light he catches the large form of Grog settling behind the drums, Pike sitting at the keys, Scanlan picking up God knows what, and then--

“Hey,” Keyleth leans over, chewing in his ear. “Do they look kinda nervous?” 

She’s right.

Vex catches his eye and flashes him a brief, unsteady smile, appearing slightly as if she’s about to be sick. It’s not usual for them to be on edge before a show; they’ve been doing this so long, and they’re so good at it it’s essentially second nature. 

“That’s odd,” Percy says, frowning.

“Hmm,” Keyleth hums, but turns her attention back to Vax, eating grapes like movie theater popcorn. 

There’s another second of silence, of darkness, and then the drums _crash_ in. 

Percy raises his eyebrows; they’ve changed the order of their lineup for the night, which is also strange. He glances over at Keyleth but she’s bobbing her head to the beat, apparently not in the mood to overthink like Percy constantly is. 

Vex and Vax come in simultaneously on their guitars - Scanlan’s on the bass for this song - and eventually Percy loses himself in the enjoyment of watching the woman he’s in love with sing and sweat and pour her soul and body out on stage. Their confidence seems to return to them as they play, so their quick interlude of apprehension slowly slips from his mind as the set goes on. 

It’s a great show; Percy’s been to more than the average fan at this point, and the energy tonight is different, electrical, tangible. It’s one of their best yet, he thinks, and then it’s over, and he’s left with the satisfaction of witnessing something magical.

Or it’s _supposed_ to be over.

The lights shut off, and there’s a flurry of movement, but from what he can tell, none of them have actually left the stage. Low, blue lighting rises slowly overhead instead, and accidentally - or it’s what he assumes - illuminates parts of the front row as well. It stays level, not too bright, just adding an atmospheric ambiance more than anything. 

Vex and Vax are sitting on stools near the front of the stage, both holding their acoustic guitars. Vex finds his eyes and smiles, but he swears he hears the flutter of her heart through her microphone.

The theatre quiets, sound of the audience a gentle hum, waiting.

“So, we’re trying something new tonight,” Vax says, and people start going wild without evening hearing the rest of his sentence. The twins grin at each other, apparently encouraged by the outrageous response. He holds up a hand, trying to regain control with a charming smile, but when it’s silent again he seems unsure of how to begin.

Vex nods at him subtly, just once.

“My sister and I have been working on this for awhile now,” Vax states to the crowd, tuning his guitar and meeting Vex’s eyes as if he’s speaking to her alone. “We’re at interesting places in our lives - separate places, which isn’t something we’ve dealt with often or openly. So this song is sort of our coming together and our acknowledgment of growing apart - not apart personally, but just apart. We sat down and wrote to not only each other, but to...important people in our lives who are helping us change, something we’ve both been afraid to do until we met them.” 

Keyleth looks over at Percy, breathless. “You don’t think--” she starts, and trails off almost instantly, too fixated on the scene in front of her.

Percy doesn’t reply; he watches the way Vex’s gaze finds him amidst the crowd and the corner of her mouth quirks nervously, and yes, he does indeed think. They’d had the stage lights turned down specifically so the band could see the audience. So Vex and Vax could sing to the people important to them.

Vex starts to play first on her guitar, building, like the gentle trickle of a waterfall. It’s soft and haunting, and then Grog starts to drum, a delicately timed and restrained beat that’s the opposite of everything he normally is; Vex and Vax begin to sing, harmonizing, with Vax picking at his own guitar.

_I’m giving up this whole lie, this whole me..._

All Percy can think is that it’s _nothing_ like them, but everything like who they are as people. And it’s beautiful, like the two of them are baring their souls for the first time in a raw, poignant way that makes him feel privileged for being allowed to hear. _You said don’t lie so I made the truth seem like a lie to even you..._

 _Control your fear, it’s clear that you do not know where you’re going to._ Vax’s voice comes in slightly stronger, but it wouldn’t work without her surrounding him, and that’s a lovely kind of tribute on its own. 

They glance down for the first line of the chorus, fleeting looks that speak to a deeper intent, as if neither of them can help themselves. _So don’t you worry, you’ll be my resolution._ They’re trying to give themselves away to Keyleth and Percy only, not the entire crowd, but the balancing act is stacked against them.

Keyleth sways, and her eyes glitter to words the rest of the audience will never understand. Music has always affected her on a level Percy would describe as cellular - like every atom in her body is drinking it in, expelling it out, drowning in it. The second verse has Vex’s voice at the forefront; Percy realizes they’re allowing each other to spotlight their own lyrics when necessary. Pike comes in on the keys, and Vex breathes in, _one month down and it’s in sight,_ her fingers plucking at strings; _oh, I’m guaranteed to lose my mind…_

She looks down at him again before the next line, and they find each other amongst the swaying bodies and the glimmer of cellphone flashlights; _it’s dangerous to speak and sigh,_ she sings, and Vax is doing the same thing, his gaze trained on Keyleth. _You might know what I’m trying to hide._

Keyleth puts a hand over her heart, lips parted, caught up and overwhelmed. He catches a few fans straining over to where the twins just looked for the second time and shifting their phones, but for once, he doesn’t care. Keyleth puts a hand over her heart and that about says it all. 

_Oh, readiness is near, we steer as far away from the coming of days, so don’t you worry..._

The song rises in a crescendo at the bridge and falls just as abruptly, but fittingly, ending the way they’d started. The twins turn their bodies, almost as if on instinct, staring at each other for the final notes. _Turn around, put it down, and see that this is really the place to be._ Vax rests a hand against her cheek, and Vex picks out the last melody. _I’m not you, nor you me...but we’re both moving steady._

The notes fade away like they’re swept adrift by an ocean, and then the crowd erupts; Pike leans into her microphone, openly wiping her tears away, and says “God, it’s just so beautiful, isn’t it, you guys? Isn’t it just so beautiful?”

“Every time,” Scanlan chimes in, shaking his head. “It gets me _every_ time.” 

\--

(Vax, who can’t contain himself, touches his fingers to his lips and extends his hand to Keyleth. 

She presses her hands to her heart, essentially weeping at the display, like no one’s ever openly shown her love before.

Percy nudges her elbow and leads her off as the band takes it last bows, trying to beat the stampede toward the exit; they pass in front of other concert-goers and he distinctly hears, “Was that _Percival de Rolo_?” “That’s Keyleth!” and various other comments on their identities. 

Well, it’s not as if they were going to go unnoticed for long.)

\--

Backstage, the scene plays out as a mirror of the first show Percy and Keyleth had gone to: Keyleth runs up to Vax as he walks into the the wings and kisses him fervently, without shame or regret, carefree, overwhelmed. When she pulls away, resting her forehead against his, she says, “You know I’m in love with you, right?”

Vex looks at Keyleth and Vax and they’re so uncomplicated, simple, easy; but she catches Percy’s eye, and as they exchange a smile, she thinks--

He approaches her with his hands in his jean pockets, sleeves of his grey henley pushed up his arms, black beanie covering his hair. Their lips are equally shy, and she says, “What’d you think?”

Vex is not Vax and Percy is not Keyleth. There’s no running into each other’s arms, no messy displays of affection, no impassioned declarations of love. They stand in front of each other, waiting, wanting. Percy pulls his beanie off his head and drops it onto hers, rolling it down over her eyes, and she grins wider. 

She pushes it back above her eyebrows and he rests a hand on the top of her head, smiling in a way she realizes was too tender for even her to see, here and like this. He says gently, “I think it was beautiful, and I think you achieved exactly what you were trying to.” 

Keyleth suddenly yells from somewhere behind Vex, “Party at Percy’s!” 

Percy rolls his eyes, and slips his hand out of his pocket and into Vex’s, tangling his fingers with hers. “Fine,” he calls, “but I _refuse_ to lose any more money in Scanlan’s clearly rigged card game--” and Scanlan make a noise of protest. 

“I’m just _better_ at it than you,” he says. “I’m a jack of all trades.”

“Bullshit,” Pike says, and a teasing argument commences between them. It all fades to background noise for Vex, still lost in the feeling of holding Percy’s hand and not being afraid of what comes next.

They’re not new, they’re not cured, and maybe they never will be. But they’re both healthier now. They’re assured. They’re better. 

It took a lot of pain, and anger, and communication. It took hard work and treatment and a feeling akin to unraveling flesh, shedding layers and layers of calluses, reopening raw scar tissue. It wasn’t simple at all, and it doesn’t make it any less or any more; it’s just the way things are, and that, in itself, is simple enough.

\--

(“Due to numerous complaints, including that of my future wife, Pike,” Scanlan says, “I’ll be starting a _different_ card game, so everyone gather ‘round and I’ll explain the rules.”

It’s not that complicated, but Percy _still_ manages to lose first. He waits for Vex - she’s third out, after Grog - and then he nudges her shoulder with his, and gestures to his balcony. 

“Getting another drink,” Vex says, but nobody’s really paying attention to them, and all Vax does is give a slight nod of acknowledgment as he intently studies his cards.

Screaming erupts behind them as they leave - someone’s clearly made a risky move - but it doesn’t feel wrong anymore, sick or twisted in comparison. It just sounds like the people they love, having fun together.)

\--

Vex has done some, but she hasn’t done enough. 

She doesn’t lean over the railing; she doesn’t think of a time when she would’ve thrown herself off. She rests her elbows lightly against it, standing straight and tall. Percy’s in a similar position; the demons aren’t gone, but they’re retreating, no longer clutching at the skin on their backs, no black smoke filling up any hollow bones.

“I had a boyfriend,” Vex says, and the words fall flat, disintegrating. “Saundor. He was nice to me, in the beginning, and it was the reason I couldn’t - couldn’t do anything about it for so long. He was always showering me with...gifts, and compliments, and attention; anything that’d win me over.” It’s like trying to strain nightmare through a dreamcatcher. “I thought I was in love with him. I thought he was perfect. But when we started to get noticed - the band, I mean - he started to get...angry.” 

“About what?” Percy asks, mostly to give her a moment to breathe. 

“He didn’t like that people were looking me,” she says. “He didn’t like that I’d smile at them, even if it was purely out of professionalism, get a crowd going, you know. He didn’t like when I talked to other men, or even attractive women. But he’d phrase it like - like I was hurting _him_ by doing these things. Like I was betraying him, somehow.”

“And the way he constructed the narrative shifted the focus to your actions, rather than the fact that he was controlling them,” Percy interprets.

“Yeah.” She swallows once, throat dry, mouth a desert. “Well, one night, a talent scout was talking to us after a show at a bar, and I put a hand on his arm, just as a goodbye. It didn’t mean anything,” she adds, a ghost of the past having to validate itself. “But Saundor saw, and when we got home, he slapped me.” It’s the only thing that still stings - that first realization of fear. “He said I’d done it on purpose to hurt him, and it ended with me apologizing. I thought I _had_ done something wrong. I must’ve, otherwise, why else would he have hit me? He apologized later, too, saying he didn’t mean it.”

Percy doesn’t answer then, but his knuckles on the railing are white-hot, furious. His expression doesn’t betray him, either. He just waits and listens.

Vex continues blankly, “It just...got worse. Everything was my fault. I started blaming myself for...being someone who could do this to someone else. At one point, I’d credited myself for changing this - _unbearably sweet_ and _kind man_ into a monster. He acted like it was tearing him up inside, how often he was hitting me.” She pauses to collect herself. “That’s how it goes, I suppose. Someone you love tells you something, and you believe them.” 

He stares straight ahead at the city skyline, unmoving. She gets the sense he doesn’t want to be angry while she’s telling him about another man’s expression of anger. She says, “It stopped taking anything at all for him to fly into a rage. I’d be afraid of the door opening. I was terrified of his voice. I’d flinch at footsteps. But I’d still hope - maybe this would be the day he’d change, you know? Maybe I’d be better. Maybe I’d finally do what I was supposed to, and we’d be okay again. You’re supposed to stand by the people you love no matter what. That’s what I’d thought.” 

Somewhere inside, Scanlan’s erupted into song, and Grog and Keyleth are arguing loudly, voices carrying and bouncing off the glass doors. She thinks of that glass shattering, the clang and crack of metal, the snap of bone, and other things that break.

The silence stretches out, marred by the chirp of crickets and occasional yelling. Percy finally breaks, knowing she needs to say it and that she can’t on her own. “What happened, Vex’ahlia?” he asks plainly, and the use of her full name jars her into the present. 

She fluctuates, stuck inside of herself. At last, she says, “I caught him with another woman. We’d had a gig that fell flat, and I was home early. She was there. I couldn’t - couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’d said I was going to go to Vax’s, get some space, clear my mind, and he - he lost it. He kept screaming that it was my fault. The other woman was still there, and she called the police. If she hadn’t, I...I don’t think I would’ve survived.”

“I’m glad you did,” Percy says, tension underlying his voice, because it’s the only thing he can safely comment on in his current state. “I’m glad you’re alive.” 

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Vex echoes, neither of them looking at each other, her left hand resting next to his right. 

“Where is he now?” Percy asks.

“Prison.” Vex utters it without satisfaction. “I wish he were dead.” 

“So do I.”

The blanket of the quiet dark draws up over them again, both watching the lights twinkling over and down the hills, like fallen stars littering the dirt, the valley as one large crater. 

“I’m not perfect,” Vex says suddenly. “I’m aware of that. I’m - trying, I think, is the best way I can describe it. I’m not _good_ like Keyleth, and I’m not earnest like Vax, or kind like Pike. I’m just me. And I’m trying to get to a place where that’s - alright.” 

“You know, I haven’t always seen the best of you,” Percy says frankly, “because we’ve spent a lot of time together and I’ve seen you struggling with your demons, as you’ve seen me struggle with mine. But I can say with certainty, Vex, that even at your worst, you’re infinitely better than you think you are.”

She fights the closing of her throat and says, voice cracking slightly, “I know the answer, but--” 

He covers her hand with his own; she flips her palm up and tangles her fingers with his, seeking comfort. He squeezes once in understanding. “Vex,” he interrupts, restating their long-ago pledge, “I would never lie to _you_.”

She hates the way he holds her in his mouth, her name on his tongue, the inflections in his tone; it’s too visceral, too genuine - it makes her want to tell him _everything_ , which she does already, but when he’s standing in front of her it’s like her hearts grabs ahold of its edges and rips itself open, like her blood belongs in him, like something buried inside her soul is extending its arms - she takes in a shuddering, deep breath and turns her body to face him, her hand slipping out from under his. 

“So don’t,” she implores, not even quite sure what she’s begging him for. To resolve her, to comfort her, to love her. “I need something. Just _something._ ” 

He contemplates in silence for a moment, stare darting between her eyes. Finally, he raises his gaze to the sky, and when he exhales it looks like letting go. “I told you I’d tell you when I knew,” he tells her quietly. “I forgive her.” 

The surprise of Percy confiding a scarred part of himself in her is not at all what Vex is expecting, because he’s done so much of that already, and she shivers against the weight of it. He continues, “Before she died, I forgave her, in a way. That night you stayed with me…I was unable then to reconcile that absolvement with the loss of my family. It was like a voice in my head was fighting against what I needed to do to move on, and I knew that, but I didn’t have the strength to - to choose one or the other. Knowledge, sometimes, isn’t enough for action.” She’ll always remember that night vividly, not even a week ago, his hunched form gathered up in her arms, his tears, his pain, her love for him unraveling in her chest. “But I forgive her, Vex, because forgiveness is the only thing I have that I can control about what’s happened to me. I was so consumed by grief, and heartbreak, and the need for vengeance that I barely felt human - I was possessed - I couldn’t allow others to see any true parts of me.” 

“Yes,” Vex says suddenly, a spark going off in her mind like a flint striking against her skull, and her eyes trace his jawline, the curve of his cheekbone, his glasses resting on his nose. “Yes, that’s - you had to forgive, or you couldn’t grow.”

He raises his eyebrows mildly. “Grow,” he repeats. “I suppose that’s the right word, isn’t it?” 

“I’ve been trying that, too,” she says, realizing that notion is exactly what has kept her in flux recently. Not simply the concept of change, but of _growth._ “I’ve been trying to grow.”

“I’ve noticed.” Percy’s wearing a fond sort of smile as he appraises her. “You _have,_ dear. You’re miles past where I first found you.” 

She licks her bottom lip, mesmerized by the expression on his face. Everything about him is too kind to her, too caring. They’ve melted each other down to the core, and now they’re enthralled by the things they can see. It all comes spilling out. “When I was with Saundor, he used to tell me - well, plenty of awful things, really. That I was unwanted, unproven, selfish, and cruel. Reckless, with no regard for the wellbeing of others.” She recites the words flawlessly, flatly. They barely twinge anymore. “That I was lost, and worse, that I was like him, hiding behind an illusion of confidence.” Percy’s knuckles flex again on his free hand, though the rest of him holds steady. 

“You’re not.” His voice is low. “Surely you know.” 

She shrugs. “Abuse has a way of warping what you know and what you don’t. When you met me, Percy, I _was_ still that person Saundor made me believe I was. I was a mess, darling, and I convinced myself I wasn’t good enough for - not just you, but anyone, like I was a ‘thing’ instead of a person.” He flashes back to her consolation in New York, _you aren’t a thing without feelings, or a tool to be used._ “As he said, ‘hiding behind an illusion of confidence.’” She laughs once humorlessly. “I put on a good show, didn’t I? I replayed his final words to me like a book I’d been reading and hated but couldn’t put down. I examined everything I’d ever said, every decision I’d ever made under the lens of him, and I - it’s like you said. I was consumed by self-doubt. Possessed with the desire to prove him wrong without realizing I never needed to.”

He relaxes slightly at her acknowledgment. He shifts his body to face her as well, arm slipping off the railing, and he’s towering over her again. “And what conclusion have you come to, my dear?” 

The addition of _my_ forces her stumble, cheeks burning with a light blush. He doesn’t normally refer to her with possessives. She says, “I don’t know if I forgive him, because I do believe there are things that are unforgivable, but I’m trying to forgive others. Syldor, for one. I’m trying to - to grow beyond everything he ever thought I would amount to and have that be enough for _me._ ”

“I think that’s very wise,” Percy responds, stroking the back of her thumb with his. “I certainly don’t forgive Saundor. _Or_ Syldor. You are - far greater than either of them ever deserved.” 

“Well,” Vex says defiantly, “ _I_ certainly don’t forgive Ripley. I forgive no one that has done harm to you.” 

The corner of his mouth slips up, and after a moment of observing her under the glow of the light spilling out from the inside, he says tenderly, “I stand by what I said when we first met, Vex. I’ve known plenty of people with money, and they are certainly not worth you.” He clears his throat. “I know nobody worth you, to be honest.” 

She’s struck with a sudden urge to cry, her eyes burning; she blinks, trying to brush it away. “Thank you.” She can’t look at him. “Percy--”

His free hand slides underneath her chin, tilting her head up with a slight nudge. “Vex.” Her breath is pure oxygen; there is a forest sprouting out of her bones. He asks softly, “What do you need?” 

Somehow, her fingers are curled against his shirt, and she’s standing so close to him they’re almost blending together, sharing space that no longer exists; she takes him in, ruffled white hair and blue eyes the color of butterfly’s wings, and he’s the same as that dusty clouding sky, those foaming ocean waves on the edge of breaking. She takes him in and she says breathlessly, “Something.” There is no denying what she’s asking. “Just _something._ ”

Another pause, another second blazing in darkness, and then he raises his arms carefully, pressing his palms against her cheeks. The pads of his thumbs stroke across her cheekbones, one, two. His eyes flicker back and forth between her own, searching for that conviction, that sureness, and then--

He leans in, eyelids fluttering closed, and kisses her.

She thinks, with everything else falling away, _Finally._

\--

(It’s not like coming home, as Percy has alwaysbeen the true meaning of home to her, but exactly the opposite: like standing in a city you’ve never been and _belonging_ there, finding a place that has the history of your every incarnation seeping from its stone; she feels herself in his blood, under his skin, in his mind, his heart ricocheting around his chest like a bullet, her own running wild across the earth. It’s deeper than home - what a flimsy sentiment compared to this; she has had terrible homes, homes that didn’t want her, homes where she’s been content but not whole - and this is something so overwhelming, so full of certainty, that all she can do is kiss him back like she’s afraid he’ll vanish with the stars rotating over the horizon.

His lips are softer than the rest of him, and though his hands are callused they cup her jaw with a feather-light touch, and even his body seems weightless against her. She wants to sink into him and never leave, let him kiss her until every horror from the both of them is gone. She slips her hands behind his neck, her tongue sweeping over his bottom lip, and he sighs into her mouth, giving all of himself away. He doesn’t have to tell her. He has been hers from the moment they met, from even before that, from forever.)

\--

Keyleth’s voice rings out, calling his name; they part with a sigh, his mouth still lingering above hers. 

“We’ll talk later,” he murmurs against her lips, and he steps back inside, throwing her a shy smile over his shoulder.

\--

( _Oh, fuck that,_ she thinks after, following him, and she begins to plan.)

\--

If anyone suspects anything, they don’t mention it.

Or, they _almost_ don’t mention it, until--

It’s an hour and a half later before the band decides to wrap up; Pike’s so tired and drunk that Grog has to carry her out on his back, taking selfies of her over his shoulder. Scanlan stretches dramatically as he stands, like he’s an old man worried about slipping a disc. 

“Well, I’m sure you lovebirds have a lot to fuck about,” Scanlan says in lieu of a goodbye, and Percy chokes for the second time that night, water dripping down his chin.

“ _Scanlan,_ ” Vex hisses warningly, Percy trying to regain his dignity beside her. 

“Did I say fuck?” Scanlan backtracks. “‘Talk.’ I meant to say ‘ _talk_.’” She shoots him a glare, raising a single eyebrow. 

“One day you’re gonna get it, Scanman,” Vax says, grinning, Keyleth giggling against his shoulder.

“If looks could kill,” Scanlan agrees cheerfully. 

“Everyone out,” Vex says, pushing at Vax’s back. “Love you all. Please leave, immediately.” 

“You don’t even live here--” is the last thing she hears from Scanlan before she slams the door shut, huffing. 

She turns around, frowning, but her irritation fades at the sight of Percy smiling at her with a look of utter adoration on his face. 

“What?” she asks, a little stunned.

“You,” he says. “That’s all.”

\--

Vex isn’t patient. 

Or, alternatively, she’s been patient long enough.

All she’d ever needed to do was _tell_ him - let him see the parts of herself she’s proud of and ashamed of; show him where she’s in recovery, where she may never recover at all. The things she’s done and hasn’t done and everything she’s overcome. How none of it scares him off, and how instead, he appraises her like he recognizes her survival for the miracle it is. 

“I’m going to change,” she says, and slips by him into his room. 

Percy pulls a bottle of red liqueur out of his pantry that had been gifted to him long ago and promptly forgotten about; she isn’t the only one with a plan, but his mostly involves more drinking and kissing and doing whatever she’s comfortable with, which is, well--

He knocks on his bedroom door out of politeness, distractedly examining the label. 

“ _Yes?_ ” she calls.

“I’ve something for you,” he says, squinting at the small text. 

A moment, and then the handle turns from the inside, the door swinging open inward. Percy looks up and nearly drops the bottle, jaw going slack, because--

Vex is standing in his doorway, completely naked, and she’s _smirking._

It doesn’t happen to Percy often, but words have finally failed him. “Erm,” he says, trying to process what he’s seeing.

“What was it, dear?” she asks nonchalantly.

“I don’t remember,” he says stupidly, “but it was mostly to head in this direction. Can I come in?”

Her mouth is wicked and sinfully set. Yes, she knows, and he reads her intention loud and clear. “Into _your own_ room? Of course,” she says, tone dripping in something sultry. “Do you want to talk _before,_ or after?”

He takes a step forward, eyes darkening dangerously, and raises the bottle. “This is a berry liqueur,” he says, his other hand spreading open against her ribcage. “It’s called Courage.” 

“How fitting,” she says, but she’s a little breathless as he moves closer, hungry and wanting. He sets the bottle on his dresser, never taking his eyes off of her, like he’s already lost to her in his mind, like he’s already underneath her. Her fingers find the hem of his shirt and tug up insistently. 

He allows her to pull it over his head, and his gaze travels down her body, her fingers trailing across his chest, his ribs, his stomach. She’s gorgeous and he can’t tell her because he doesn’t have the metaphors, the similes, the poetry to describe it. He doesn’t have the music.

She fights against the ripple of shyness from his stare; she’s always been somewhat shameless, thriving off spontaneity and confidence, but she’s never been _looked_ at like this before, been the center of somebody else’s unwavering attention. Percy’s heart is flinging itself at her hands and it sounds like rain. 

“We’ve done enough talking,” she whispers, fingers dropping to the button on his jeans.

“Alright,” Percy murmurs lowly, intoxicated by the feeling of her bare skin against hands, needing to be consumed by her. “So we won’t talk.”

\--

(They don’t, and they couldn’t, anyway. There’s no room for words in bed with them, already filled with too many other concepts; if an automobile accelerating through water were a feeling, if the north star had a taste, if smoke and ash could be built into a house. He doesn’t kiss away scars, but claws at them because they are real; she throws her head back and gasps, _more,_ she breathes, _more._

Her hips slide roughly against his, her fingers locking around his wrists, but their lips meet like a Tuesday afternoon, warm and airy and drenched in sun.)

\--

Vax rudely awakens when a hand accidentally whacks him in the face, and he rolls out of bed on instinct, crashing into the floor.

“I’m sorry!” Keyleth squeaks out from her side of the mattress. “I’m sorry - I just remembered something, Vax, I’m so sorry, oh my God--” 

“What?” he says dumbly, still half-asleep and unable to process anything, cheek stinging. “Kiki--” 

“I forgot to tell you - Kash kissed me!” she blurts out, almost in a panic.

Vax blinks. “When, just now?”

“No, last week!” 

He heaves himself back up onto the bed. “Did you have a dream?” 

“ _No,_ ” Keyleth says vehemently, rolling up the sheet in her hands anxiously. “Kash kissed me last week after a press thing! I wanted to tell you in person so that at least if I got the words wrong, you’d be able to like, read my body language or whatever--”

Despite how jarring the situation is, he finds himself grinning. “I don’t think that’s quite how it works,” he says tiredly, and then: ”Wait. Kash _kissed_ you?”

“Yes!” she says. “I’m so sorry!”

“Erm,” he says. “I don’t think there’s anything to be sorry for, is there?”

“Well,” she says, caught off-guard by his lack of concern, “I should’ve told you earlier, shouldn’t I?”

“We weren’t dating then,” he says. “You didn’t have to tell me at all, if you didn’t want to.” 

“I did want to,” she says.

“And so you have,” Vax says, lying back and rubbing his face. “I appreciate your honesty, but you know, you didn’t - owe me anything then.”

She bites her lip. “And now?”

“Assuming we’re, you know, properly dating, monogamously,” he says slowly, “I’d appreciate being like, informed when these things happen. If they happen again, and if that’s what we’re doing.”

“It’s what we’re doing,” Keyleth answers immediately. “I mean, unless you don’t want--”

“No, I do,” Vax interrupts. “That’s the _only_ thing I want.” 

“Okay, cool.”

“Cool,” he echoes, and they sort of grin idiotically at each other in the darkness, no secrets left between them.

“High-five,” Keyleth says after, and he obeys, laughing.

\--

(Alright? Percy murmurs, tracing his thumb across her bottom lip, red and swollen and slightly out of focus; if she were any further than a few inches from his face, he wouldn’t be able to see her at all. 

Yeah, Vax says, but something in her voice tells him otherwise; not regret, not sadness or anger, but _something._

He moves his hand down the side of her face, her chin, her neck - her eyelids flutter closed - her shoulder, her arm, her hip - her breath comes out in a quiet shudder - and up again, the crease of her elbow, her back, circling every ridge of her spine, and then--

Broken bottle, she whispers as he presses over a thin, shiny, jagged line of scar tissue following the line of her shoulder blade. All of Vex’s scars are cruel and carefully placed, like if you weren’t searching for them, they wouldn’t exist.

He gently outlines her collarbone, over the curve of breast, down each rib. 

Picture frame, she says, as he ghosts over a series of cuts, one deep and angular between her bones. 

He tilts her head to the right and touches his lips to her jawline, and then pulls away, waiting.

She’s biting her lip hard, and her eyes reflect like glass. I didn’t know you noticed that one, she says unsteadily, breaking down. 

I noticed, he says. 

He wore a ring, she whispers, and Percy takes her into his arms and lets her cry there.

I’d forgotten, she says, sobbing into his chest.I’d forgotten what it felt like to have somebody love you. I think I never actually knew at all.

I do, he says, I do, I do, I do.)

\--

And it is finally the two of them underneath a faint and muted sky, no scraping bones, no tumid veins, no monsters made of flesh and blood and memory. 

Finally they’re alone.

\--

 **carmen new mexico** @ _invalidateme_ · 22m  
KEYLETH AND VAX GOING ALONE BACK TO HER APARTMENT IN WEST HOLLYWOOD  
NOT A DRILL  
PICTURES

 **max** @ _passingthroughfire_ · 21m  
_Replying to @invalidateme_  
BRUHHH I CALLED THIS SO LONG AGO i fucking KNEW it was keyleth and vax 

**the x-avier files** @ _scullyandmurder_ · 20m  
_Replying to @passingthroughfire @invalidateme_  
dude my gc had a literal bet going when this all originally started...ya boi bouta make 50 buxx

 **boo** @ _lizzyisademon_ · 15m  
_Replying to @scullyandmurder @passingthroughfire @invalidateme_  
Hold ur hoeses bud bc ur gonna lose that money right back if it’s ALSO vex/percy remember

 **boo** @ _lizzyisademon_ · 15m  
_Replying to @lizzyisademon @scullyandmurder @passingthroughfire @invalidateme_  
Horses* FUCK

 **the x-avier files** @ _scullyandmurder_ · 14m  
_Replying to @lizzyisademon @passingthroughfire @invalidateme_  
hoeses

 **boo** @ _lizzyisademon_ · 12m  
_Replying to @scullyandmurder @passingthroughfire @invalidateme_ I know where you live xavier

 **kait** @ _cooleraid_ · 9m  
_Replying to @lizzyisademon @scullyandmurder @passingthroughfire and 1 other_  
HY Im,, vdrunk but was at show tonight

 **kait** @ _cooleraid_ · 7m  
_Replying to @cooleraid @lizzyisademon @scullyandmurder and 2 others_  
GE T READY T LOSE 50 $$$4$ XAVY LMAOOOOOOOO ok godnight

 **carmen new mexico** @ _invalidateme_ · 2m  
_Replying to @cooleraid @lizzyisademon @scullyandmurder and 2 others_  
kaitlin get your wasted ass back here and tell us what you KNOW 

\--

(In the morning, well, everybody _technically_ knows, or thinks they do, or knows some things but not all of them. For instance, the pictures of Vax and Keyleth are pretty damning, considering there’s a whole series of them making out on a street corner. 

_we were smashed,_ Vax texts his defense, _plus shes rly hot._

 _gross,_ Vex answers. _i mean yes she is but on principle, gross._

 _u should be thanking us,_ Vax types. _now all the talk is just abt us & u & whitey have sum breathing room_

_do not ever call him that again thanks_

_lol. oh btw listen 2 what happened like arse crack of dawn this am..._ )

\--

“Hey,” Vex says suddenly, turning and looking him, and Percy will forever be struck by the image of Vex wearing only a hoodie and his boxers, standing in his kitchen holding a cup of coffee. “I’m in love with you.” 

The declaration is stated like she’s reading off a headline of the morning paper, like it’s an answer to a crossword puzzle, a fact so obvious and boring she’d never even thought it had to be spoken aloud. He smiles, dipping his head to kiss her once, briefly. 

“I’d rather gathered that,” he says. “I _was_ there when you told me your heart was mine.”

Her jaw drops, taken aback. “You were _awake_?” 

“I was, although for awhile I did believe I was hallucinating,” he confirms, busily pouring his own coffee. “Keyleth is never as quiet as she thinks she is.” 

“Balls,” Vex says, quite undisturbed at the turn of events. “Well, now I’ve told you in much plainer terms.” 

“And as I said last night, I’m in love with you too,” he says, leaning against his counter, but love is already in the room with them, and has been for some time.

“Glad we’ve sorted that out,” Vex says. “Anything else? Keyleth forgot about Kash kissing her until about four this morning, and she woke from a dead sleep to tell Vax before the guilt killed her, so I’d rather we clear the air if necessary. I won’t be pleased if you wake me before nine to tell me something inconsequential.” 

“Well, you’ll have to define inconsequential,” Percy says, playing along. “What if I’m watching you sleep, and you’re just entirely too beautiful to stand in silence? What if I am compelled to inform you of my infatuation?” 

“Send me a text,” she says. “I keep my mobile on Do Not Disturb. I’ll see it in the morning.” 

“Hm,” he says, and walks toward the kitchen island, where she’s tracking him from the opposite side. He sets his mug down and leans on his elbows. “What if I’ve a different desire? A less pure intention, perhaps.” 

“Keep talking,” she says coyly.

“You do sleep in shockingly little,” he continues. “I may be easily swayed.” 

“Yes, of course,” Vex answers seriously. “Your primal nature must be torture to control.” 

“It is,” he says. 

“In that case,” she says, “I will allow you to _very nicely_ wake me, as that’s something I’d like to participate in.”

“I assumed as much.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, you’re ridiculous.” 

“I’m a heavier sleeper than you, so if anything, we should be having this conversation in reverse,” Percy points out, moving around the table to sit next to her. 

“I’ll wake you when a similar mood strikes me,” Vex promises, smirking, wedging her knees between his. “Or if we’re being attacked, or something.” 

“Attacked?” he repeats mildly. “What are we likely to be attacked by?” 

“Oh, I dunno,” she says. “Burglars. Murderers. Serial killers on the run.”

“You watch too much true crime.” 

“Someone could pay off your security,” she says convincingly. “We should hire someone to test their loyalty.” 

“We’ll do that,” he agrees.

“Do you have any enemies? Any other Hollywood stars bitter at you stealing their roles with your dashing good looks and superior acting ability?” 

He laughs at that, unable to contain it any longer. “Not that I’m aware of. Should we pass these concerns along to Keyleth, as well?” 

“Oh, no,” she says, waving a hand. “You’ve see Keyleth’s apartment - she and Vax have different dangers. Probably fairies and wood nymphs and werewolves, and other such creatures.” 

“I see,” he says, and then, endearingly, “You’re a madwoman.” 

“I’m prepared,” she counters, slowly bringing her mug back up to her lips. “You’ll be grateful for me when we prove your head security officer can be bribed by a mere twenty grand.” 

“I’m already grateful for you,” he says, and she smiles quietly, dropping her eyes to the floor.

\--

(Oh, and we’re like, _together,_ right? she asks, like she’s only just realized that may not be a possibility. 

I’d thought so, he says with a smirk, but I don’t mind proving it to you if you’d like the confirmation.

Her eyes glitter. Prove it, she says.)

\--

“Let’s take bets,” Scanlan says to the rest of the band backstage on Saturday evening as they wait for Vex to arrive. “Did they fuck or not. Easy.”

“That’s my si--” Vax starts, but Pike interrupts with, “Fifty says they did, and they’re official.”

Scanlan looks at her approvingly. “Oh, I’ll take that bet, yeah, sure. I’m going with they fucked, but not official. Grog?” 

“Hmmm…” he draws the sound out while he thinks. “I’m w’you, Scanlan. They’re so... _slow._ Sometimes Percy looks at her like he never saw a woman before.” He hands Scanlan twenty dollars and some loose change.

“Fifty on nothing happened,” Vax says, because he refuses to bet on anything else on principle. 

“That’s a clear loss, but whatever,” Scanlan says. “Your money.”

“A hundred on they did, twice, and they’re official,” Keyleth says, who’d been rummaging around her purse for all the cash she had on hand. Vax looks at her, scandalized.

“Ooh, that’s good,” Scanlan says. “Anyone wanna change based on amount of times, or--?”

“No, I think I’m confident,” Pike says, reaching for her wallet.

“Alright, then that’s everyone. Pony up, ladies and gents.” Scanlan holds out a flat palm and they all begrudgingly pass their money over. “Time will tell.” 

\--

It doesn’t really take any time at all.

She shows up twenty minutes later with Percy at her side, both of them wearing hoodies with the hoods over their heads, and they’re talking passionately about something, pausing every so often to drink their frappuccinos or whatever the fuck they’d stopped for at Starbucks. They’re not holding hands; they don’t really touch. The band can’t figure it out from watching them approach.

“What d’you think?” Vax says under his breath.

“Not sure yet,” Scanlan answers, following them with his eyes like predator and prey. “They’re hard to read.” 

“Soundcheck in five,” a crew member calls, ushering them forward.

“I’ve got this,” Pike says, and walks over to meet them, everyone else hovering suspiciously behind her. She says something none of them can make out, and then pulls Vex off with her, pointing Percy towards the rest of them. 

“Ah, shit,” Scanlan whispers. “She’s taking the story with her. De Rolo’s a vault.”

“Hello,” Percy greets, and he sounds the same as always.

“Damn,” Vax says. 

\--

(So, spill, Pike says, pulling Vex aside. Look at you. You’re lighter. You’re happy.

Vex smiles unwillingly, like she’d wanted to keep that particular emotion to herself just awhile longer. I am, she says. What do you wanna know? 

Pike eyes her down. _Everything_.)

\--

They make it back just in time for the soundcheck, Percy and Keyleth lounging in the wings, idly chatting. Vex winks at him. Pike shoots Scanlan a quick frown. The lights flash on and off, in several different sets of colors; someone calls, “In three, two…” 

They play it through seamlessly, adjusting levels as they go, timing, lights, balance; afterward, the pile off stage to relax, and Scanlan asks, “What’s the story, morning glory?”

Pike grimaces. “Give it all to Keyleth,” she admits unwillingly, and Keyleth pumps a fist into the air. 

“You made a _bet?_ ” Vex asks, scandalized, worming her way underneath Percy’s arm. “ _Without me?_ ” 

“It was _about you,_ ” Scanlan says, handing a wad of bills over. 

“Oh,” she answers. “What specifically?” 

“Well, Keyleth won, and she bet that you’d had sex twice and were officially together, so, yeah,” Scanlan answers, apparently a sore loser. 

Percy merely rolls his eyes, but Vex seems even more enraged, though not over her invaded privacy. “Why couldn’t we have done this for Vax and Keyleth?” she demands. “You _know_ I love a good bet.”

“Gee, _thanks,_ ” Vax says. “I bet nothing happened, by the way, out of respect to you.” 

Vex side-eyes him. “That was stupid,” she says. “What’s the matter with you? You lost fifty quid for _respect_? Gods, Vax, I thought you had a little more sense than that; you know me, you could’ve had this in the bag--” 

Vax throws his hands into the air. “Next time, I will,” he says. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” she says, beaming, Percy grinning down at her.

\--

( _Can I have my money back?_ Vax whispers out of the corner of his mouth to Keyleth. 

_Yeah,_ Keyleth says, and discreetly slips a fifty in the pocket of his jeans.)

\--

So, Percy takes it back: their show _that_ night is even better than the last. There’s no fear or anxiousness permeating the stage with them, infiltrating their notes. They play the song again and it’s just as meaningful as it was the first time, but now there’s no expectation to it, only acceptance. It’s only them, singing under spotlights with the people they love watching from the wings, and they’re where they’re supposed to be.

\--

“Ugh,” Keyleth grumbles into his shoulder as he waters the plants in her living room, “I don’t want you to go.”

“We’re not leaving until Thursday,” Vax points out, amused. “It’s only Sunday.”

“I know,” she says with her forehead pressed against the back of his neck and her arms around his waist, “but I don’t want you to go at all.”

He gently sets her watering can down on the tray in the middle of her coffee table where she normally keeps it, like it’s a decorative centerpiece, and her grip on him falters. He turns to face her, smiling, and takes her face in his hands, leaning up slightly to kiss her. “I’ll come back,” he says.

“Promise?” she asks. 

“Always,” he says.

“I’m not really this clingy,” she says, interlacing her fingers behind his neck. “But, you know, I’ve like - I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”

“Me neither,” he says. “I quite fancied Gilmore for awhile, actually, but it didn’t go anywhere. Bad for business.”

“I had a thing for your sister,” Keyleth confesses, and, well, that’s entirely different. 

“My _sister_?” he repeats, stunned. 

“Oh, come on, Vax.” Keyleth rolls her eyes. “She’s, like, hot. Personally, I prefer you, obviously. But when you guys were first starting out, I was kinda into her--”

“I’ve heard enough,” Vax says, and covers his ears, slipping out from her embrace. He can feel her laughing as he disengages. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.” 

She sighs, and her palms rest against the backs of his hands, and she kisses him, kisses him, kisses him. He lowers his arms without realizing, too caught up in the feel of it.

“Vex is better suited to Percy, I think,” Keyleth says. 

“Oh, and what are you and I?” he says. “Chopped liver?”

“Soulmates, obviously,” she says immediately, without the barest hint of irony. “Don’t you feel it?” 

He pauses for a moment, oddly touched by the sentiment, the certainty of it. “Yes,” he says softly. “I do. I did. I always have.”

\--

 **Percival** @ _PercivaldeRolo_ · 5d  
Like Real People Do - Hozier  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms  


**cindy** @ _thisiswhitestone_ · 3h  
_Replying to @PercivaldeRolo_  
Hey! You posted this a few days ago, but I’m just wondering if you like any other songs by them? Hozier is my fave band! Thanks! x 

**Percival** @ _PercivaldeRolo_ · 10m  
_Replying to @thisiswhitestone_  
Hello! Yes, I’ve actually found I enjoy most of that album. Another favourite is Jackie  & Wilson:  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMLhdYjxbCs

**vex’ildan** @ _imvexthatsvax_ · now  
_Replying to @PercivaldeRolo_  
baby.

\--

Percy reads the tweet and looks up from his phone in surprise, only to find her standing beside his refrigerator, _blushing_ furiously; she isn’t normally one to shy away, but she isn’t one to toss her heart about where other people can see it, either. The opportunity presented is too rare to let go.

“You certainly didn’t waste any time,” he teases, already more in love with her than he’d been a minute ago. 

She huffs as if she’s unaffected, but she keeps her gaze averted. “Fuck off,” she says, no real heat behind it whatsoever. 

“Come here,” he says, and she rolls her eyes but obeys, leaving her water bottle sitting on the counter.

She stands tall in front of him, hands on her hips, defiant like he’s planning on challenging her. Instead, he wraps an arm around her waist and unceremoniously tugs her onto his lap, and she laughs breathily, interlocking her fingers around the back of his neck. “Oh, good plan,” she says, grinning. 

“I thought as much,” he says, and he tilts his head up to kiss her. 

“Does it bother you?” she asks when they part, and she does look a little guilty. “I figured - well, it’s been out there, hasn’t it?” 

“It has,” he agrees.

“I don’t care who knows,” she says. “Not now. Not anymore. Hasn’t it been long enough?” 

“It has,” he agrees again, gently, and her quiet, answering smile has him standing on the edge of the world, ready to jump and survive.

\--

 **Percival** @ _PercivaldeRolo_ · 2m  
_Replying to @imvexthatsvax_  
Ignore the last verse.

 **vex’ildan** @ _imvexthatsvax_ · 1m  
_Replying to @PercivaldeRolo_  
i don’t own a lexus.

 **Percival** @ _PercivaldeRolo_ · now  
_Replying to @imvexthatsvax_  
We’ll take mine.

\--

(They toss their phones aside and Vex takes him to bed, now burning like the devil, smile transmuted into a haughty smirk. 

You like this entirely too much, Percy murmurs helplessly.

Like what? she asks, dragging her nails down his back. 

The idea of people knowing I’m yours, he says without having the clarity of mind to consider his word choice. She pauses.

Is that what you are? she says, but her voice is low and dangerous and _hot._

His lips part; her mouth opens against the crook of his neck, hovering over his pulse point. 

God, yes.)

\--

_ grogthebarbarian: _

yeah uhhh how did we not see this coming? how was this not all incredibly obvious? like were we just so swept up in the idea of the mystery and the fun of detective work that we didn’t want to see the truth? _of course_ the twins fell in love simultaneously with people exactly the opposite of them, but exactly the people they needed, and the people who needed them. of course vax’ildan, who looks like he was birthed straight out of a moonless night, fell in love with keyleth, the girl carrying more heat than any sun, the girl who burns brighter than every fire. and _of course_ lord percival de rolo with a past too horrific to bring up anywhere except therapy fell in love with vex’ahlia, who probably took one look at his pain and said, open up, i’ll make room for yours if you make room for mine. like. what else was possibly going to happen. what other way could this possibly have gone.

_ daggerdaggerdagger: _

this is beautiful wtf

_ doicarelikeilook: _

these are real people like...please go outside

_ vexderolo: _

real people with a beautiful love story. anyway fuck you

\--

Scanlan adds Percy and Keyleth to a group text with the rest of the band later that afternoon with an image collage as their introduction. It’s kind of weird - one of the pictures is of Vax and Keyleth from the cheekbones down, kissing on a street corner, and then there’s the sun rising over the ocean, and a galaxy; then there’s Vex and Percy, side-by-side from the back, and an old radio and a grove of trees, and--

 _found ur aesthetics guys,_ he types. _lookin great._

Pike shoots over another completely dedicated to Vax and Keyleth, centered mostly around the sun and the moon. _I love this one!!!_ she says.

 _OMG_ is what they get from Keyleth before Percy finally puts his phone down, choosing not to participate; Vex laughs from beside him, clicking on each one by one and zooming in on the photos individually. 

“These are fantastic,” she says, resting against his headboard topless with a sheet pulled up around her waist that has slowly started sliding down, generally being quite distracting. “This one captured the tormented side of you perfectly.” 

“Tormented,” Percy says, leaning on his elbow and staring at her. “That’s the word.”

She throws him a flirtatious look. “Aren’t you exhausted?” 

“Yes,” he sighs, and throws an arm across her stomach and rests his cheek against her shoulder. “But this is nice, too. I’m just - comfortable.”

She smiles at his open affection and drops a kiss to his hair. “So am I.”

He snorts, muffled against her skin. “As evidenced _._ ”

Pike sends Vex a separate text then, like a secret, a whisper. _Here,_ she says, and there’s another collage. _this one seemed like something just for you two._

It’s not an aesthetic or some other kind of fancy graphic edit; it’s just photos of her and Percy over the years, side-by-side, leading into a few sets of photos of them together. The shock rolls into Vex slowly: the juxtaposition between then and now is startlingly apparent. In an early one, she’s much too thin and ducking out of the light, her smile barren. Percy, too, seems haunted, darkness following him like a magnet, his lips looking cruel rather than kind. The first shots of them with each other aren’t shockingly different, but there’s a lightness to his shoulders, and her expression doesn’t look like a mask. It’s mostly a gradual change, until--

The final picture is bigger and stretches across the two sides at the bottom, and it’s from yesterday, waiting to cross the street outside a Starbucks. He’s laughing at something she’s said and her smile is genuine, crinkling her nose, and they’re just staring, unaware of anything happening around them, unaware of the picture being taken from only feet behind them.

“Hey,” she says quietly, feeling strangely as if she’s about to cry. He tilts his head up. “Look at this.”

He lifts a finger and scrolls, taking it in, and she wonders what he’s _really_ seeing, what he’s remembering about who he was and how he felt and the things he did. She wonders what he sees when he looks at _her_ , if he can tell how far she’s come, and how far they both have. He pushes himself up slightly, more on her level, his back against the headboard and their shoulders touching.

It’s a minute before he speaks, and his throat sheds the barest hint of muscle, tightened. 

“My God,” he says, and he leans his head gently against hers. “It is hard surviving, isn’t it.” 

\--

(It’s odd, she says, fighting the burn in her eyes. It doesn’t...feel real. Like it doesn’t make sense, when you see it. 

All of it? he asks.

No, she says. When you’re with me - that makes sense. But everything before it, it’s like - like I can’t remember it anymore. Or when I do, it’s like I’m watching myself from somewhere else.

Yeah, he murmurs. I know what you mean. 

Do you think it’s good? she asks. To forget? 

Percy carefully takes her hand in his, interlacing their fingers. 

You know, in therapy, he says, we learn about little victories. Getting out of bed is worth celebrating, sometimes. Taking a shower is an accomplishment. Eating a single meal is a milestone. 

Vex, he says, I think being able to forget the pain you were in - even just for a moment - is like conquering an entire army.)

\--

“ _Keyleth,_ ” Kima greets warmly over the phone. “ _Boy, do_ we _have a lot to discuss._ ”

Keyleth blushes at the insinuation, eyeing Vax across the table from her, munching on some toast. “So what’s first?” she asks, not even bothering to hide it. 

“ _A picture’s worth a thousand words,_ ” Kima sing-songs. “ _There are quite a few of you and a certain rock star out and about this weekend…_ ” 

Keyleth covers her face with her hand, unable to look at him while she’s talking about him. “Yeah,” she sighs. “Are you mad at me?” 

Kima laughs. “ _On the contrary,_ ” she says. “ _You, Percival, Vex, and Vax are blowing up at the moment. It’s all anyone’s talking about. You couldn’t have made us prouder._ ” 

“I’m glad I did myself a favor for once,” Keyleth says, relieved. “Normally I’m just like, sticking my foot in places it doesn’t belong--”

Vax raises an eyebrow at her, trying not to laugh and the odd butchering of the phrase. Kima says, “ _No, no; either way, it’s your private life and I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on, and, of course, I’m happy for you. From a publicity standpoint specifically, it’s a brilliant move, especially considering the timing of it - I mean, neither you nor Percy have ever dated someone publicly. The only interest you’ve ever shown is in each other. You’re the most desirable stars in Hollywood at the moment. People are_ obsessed _with you. But Percy’s always been slightly held back by his past and reputation, and you’ve always come off as slightly too innocent._ ” 

“Sure,” Keyleth says, because it’s true. “So now I’m - not innocent?” 

Kima laughs again. “ _No, more like - you’re both human now. You’ve grounded yourselves somewhere that isn’t just each other. Percy isn’t distant anymore, and you’re a little more down-to-earth._ And _with two of the most-talked about rock stars in music - people love twins, especially twins with talent._ ”

“So this was a solid move on all fronts, is what you’re saying,” Keyleth infers, reaching for the butter. 

“ _Basically, yes,_ ” Kima says.

“Cool,” Keyleth says, and moves the phone away from her mouth. “Hey, Vax, apparently us being in love is like, good for our careers.” 

“Sweet,” he says, grinning. “Two birds, one stone.”

“ _Second thing,_ ” Kima says. “ _Aramente finally has a release date - August 18th. The premiere will be on the 14th, at Grauman’s. You’re the lead, so you have quite a few invites, should you choose to utilize them._ ”

“The band,” she says immediately. “My dad, if he can make it out here. Percy, obviously. And that’s it.” 

“ _Sure thing,_ ” Kima answers, typing in the background. “ _Not a problem, I’ll get that arranged. And Passed Through Fire won’t release until next year, so no need to worry about that yet._ ”

“Great,” she says. “It’ll probably be the same, anyway. It’s normally too much of an ordeal for Cassandra to make it out here.” 

“ _Great._ ” The typing continues. “ _Last thing - I’m sending you over a stack of scripts you’ve received recently. I’ve had them vetted to your specifications, and there’s a few I think you’ll really be interested in._ ”

“Oh, awesome, thanks,” she says through a mouthful of toast. “I’ll let you know what I decide.” 

“ _And that’s all,_ ” Kima says. “ _Go have fun with your boyfriend. Be young and in love and all that shit._ ” 

Keyleth giggles. “You go do the same with your wife.” 

“ _I will,_ ” she says with a grin in her voice, “ _take care,_ ” and hangs up the phone. 

“So what’s so excellent about us being in love?” Vax asks, spreading more jam on his bread. “Aside from the obvious, I mean. Career-wise.” 

“I guess I’m like, more grounded now or something,” she explains, leaning back in her chair. “Like I seem more human. That’s what Kima said, anyway.” 

“Gilmore gave me a similar talk,” Vax says. “He said it matured us, and it’ll be a great transition for our next album. You know, the first one’s all about rebellion and youthful heartbreak and wildness and whatever - and this one would be about growing up. He said it was evidenced by the song we wrote for you and Freddie.” 

“I can see that,” Keyleth says, furrowing her brow, thinking. “Are we inspiring?”

“In what way?” he asks, reaching for the orange juice. 

“Musically. Like enough for an album.”

Vax grins, pouring it into his glass. “One wasn’t enough?”

She kicks him lightly under the table, giggling. “Oh, you know what I mean.” 

He takes a sip, stretching out a leg, his ankle brushing hers. “You could be,” he says contemplatively, “because it isn’t only about love. It’s like - Vex and I started dealing with a whole host of things when we met the two of you, like we said in _Resolution,_ because we’re going different directions now.” He pauses, stops, starts again. “In plainer terms, yes, Keyleth, of course I could write about you forever - but that’s what writers do, isn’t it? It isn’t exactly a compliment.” 

“I like knowing how you see things,” Keyleth says, her chin against her palm, elbow leaning on the table, breakfast forgotten. “I think sometimes I’m really - rigid in my views of stuff. Like, not that I don’t accept other perspectives, but it just doesn’t occur to me that there may be another one for something I’d see as simple.” 

“Like inspiration, you mean?” he asks, and she nods. “I think - I think it means _more_ that I can write about you and it encompasses the rest of my life, too. Like I look at you and I see everything, I understand everything. It’s not just that I write a song about how you make me feel and everything’s so perfect and wonderful - it’s like, I can write a song about how I met you and it changed me and I am a better person because of it, in _all_ areas. I’m a better brother, I think. A better friend. So to have that overall clarity, to me, is what it’s really about.” He can’t remember being so introspective and honest at any other point in his life, and with Keyleth, it’s like every word out of his mouth is finally the truth. “It isn’t just that I’m in love with you. It’s that I understand what love means, now. The way it feels. What it looks like. How it tastes, hurts, heals.”

“That’s nice,” Keyleth says, smiling downwards, suddenly shy. “I like the way you talk, you know. I think it’s beautiful. And I like that you - help me see the world differently. Clarity, I guess, like you said; like there are things I didn’t know were there before.”

“Cheers,” Vax says, clinking his glass against hers, and she laughs. “We’re good for each other. Only makes sense that that bleeds over into other areas of our lives as well.” 

They settle into a peaceful kind of quiet for awhile; the curtains are waving in the breeze, sunlight littering the room and shifting, twirling, mirroring, creating a kaleidoscope of the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Diamonds dart across Vax’s face, staring down at his phone, catching up on the morning’s news. Cars drive by lazily on the street below. If she concentrates hard enough, she swears she can smell the ocean.

She takes it in, the picturesque tranquility of the moment, the calm, the serenity; across from her, Vax is breathing, his heart thumping, blood pumping through his body, and her own pulse beats steadily like a gentle drum. There is nowhere else to be, for once, and nothing more to want.

“If there’s anything I’ve ever done right,” Keyleth murmurs with a smile, “it’s gotta be this.”

\--

“...So you’re excited for the tour to end?” Percy’s asking as they stroll casually towards Santa Monica Boulevard, heading for the nearest Starbucks. Vex swears she isn’t addicted to caffeine, but _also_ tells him that nothing can beat a frappuccino on a hot day, or warm day, or cool day, or during a blizzard. 

“Gods, I can’t _wait,_ ” she answers, exhaling loudly. “Not to sound ungrateful, but they’re so exhausting - the last leg’s always the toughest. We’re just ready to be home.”

“Do you _all_ live with Scanlan at this point?” Percy says. “Or are you and Vax the exception?” 

“Everyone kind of does, one way or another,” Vex confesses. “He comes from - ‘old money,’ is how he describes it. His place in the Hills is _huge -_ I keep forgetting you haven’t been there yet - but he owns property all over. Vax prefers Boston when we’re in the country, honestly, but this is where the industry is. And Pike and Grog bounce between here and Raleigh, where her grandfather lives now.” 

“And what about you?” Percy asks, because she’d left herself out the equation. “Where do you prefer?” 

She’s silent for a moment, but she slips her fingers into his and squeezes once. “I still miss the English countryside,” she answers hesitantly, and drops her eyes to the pavement. “But here, now, with you - L.A. is finally starting to grow on me.” 

He smiles at her almost unwilling admission. “I miss England considerably,” he says, “but here, now, with you - I agree. It isn’t so terrible.” 

“I kind of like the change in temperature,” she says. 

“I know,” Percy says. “I didn’t quite get it - what’s the appeal behind having nice weather constantly? But it sounds rather idiotic when spoken aloud, doesn’t it.” 

She laughs. “I have thin blood now,” she says. “I get cold when it’s under twenty-one degrees.”

“And Keyleth was _born_ from this,” Percy adds. 

“Explains a lot about her,” Vex says.

“Well, maybe we’ll take a trip soon,” he says off-handedly, slipping backwards on the subject. “I owe Cassandra a visit.” 

Vex stops walking entirely, accidentally yanking him a bit by the suddenness of it. He turns, looks at her quizzically, raises an eyebrow in expectation. 

She says slowly, “Are you inviting me home with you to meet your sister?” 

“Yes,” he says cautiously. “You can refuse, of course, but I’d thought...” 

“Isn’t that a bit...quick?” she points out, staring at him oddly. He feels himself flushing, the thought having not crossed his mind whatsoever. He’s already certain he’s spending the rest of his life with her. There are things he’s known for awhile. 

“Erm,” he says nervously, and her mouth starts to curl at the corners.

“Oh, come off it,” she says, and continues to walk, giggling as she dodges a low-hanging branch. “You’re too easy, Percy; try and keep up, please. It’s embarrassing. After all this, I’m marrying you.” 

“ _You’re_ proposing to _me?_ ” Percy asks, pretending to be scandalized. “And an older woman, no less! Darling, think of the press.”

“It’s blasphemous,” Vex agrees. “What _will_ the people think when they hear of it?” 

He’s the one who stops this time, tugging her against him. “Fuck the people,” he murmurs, drawing her in close, her fingers splayed against his chest. He wonders how he made it as long as he did without kissing her, without the weight of her body in his hands. “Fuck the press. I care about very few things. You outweigh them all.” 

Vex’s lips turn and tilt, her smile more like a shattering mirror, the softness underneath. She says, “So who’s proposing to whom, here?” 

Percy dips his head and kisses her once. “Oh, no,” he says mildly. “When the time comes, _that_ will be done properly, and with great care.” 

Vex steps back out of his grasp, and continues to pull him along, smiling widely. 

“Come, dear,” she says blithely. “We don’t want the press to get any ideas now, do we?” 

\--

(They’re back at his apartment twenty minutes later, having long since moved on. He watches her stretch out across his couch and turn the television on like she’s been there forever, and the concept sits warm inside of him, like something pleasant that could easily catch fire and burn. He asks, Did you mean it?

She drinks slowly, like she’s buying herself more time. Perhaps, she says coyly, knowing exactly what he’s referring to. Did you? 

Oh, Vex, he sighs. I’m not a man of subtlety with you. 

She smiles so brightly he sees the reflecting sun in her eyes. 

In that case, she says, of course I meant it. We’ve put a lot of work into this. It wasn’t supposed to be a waste.

He sits down beside her, leaning into her side, his head resting on her shoulder. Good, he says tiredly, contentedly. Because I didn’t fancy having to pretend like it hasn’t been my intention since the moment we met.

She wraps an arm around him, running her fingers through his hair; she finds it endlessly endearing how he loves to be held, comforted, touched. He isn’t a soft person, she knows, because he wasn’t made so, but when he’s with her, there are no sharp corners, no jagged edges; there is only peace, of soul, of mind, of body, of forever.) 

\--

Scanlan finally gathers them all at his place two nights later - “Percy’s been such a gracious host,” he says, “I must return the generosity,” - and Vex hadn’t been lying: Scanlan lives in a _mansion._ It’s impressive even for Los Angeles, and the view is absolutely stunning, staring over the downtown skyline and the city spread out underneath them; it glitters and gleams, looking like the stars it so desperately makes itself to be made of. 

It’s not really a party; it’s more relaxed than it’s ever been, and something is changed between them all for good, for better. There’s no weight of uneven secrets, of the have-they and have-nots, of darkness lurking in the corners. Vax and Keyleth are playing pong against Scanlan and Grog, and Keyleth is really winning it for them; Grog’s big, and keeps overshooting. 

“I’m too strong,” he says. “The little cups are so close.” 

“It isn’t basketball, Grog, it’s beer pong,” Vax points out.

Percy’s waiting for Keyleth to sink a shot for a boomerang on his Instagram, and Vex is trying to figure out which bluetooth device controls Scanlan’s speakers for the downstairs living room and kitchen. Pike walks up to her casually. 

Vex raises her eyes from her phone and greets her with a smile. 

Pike says, “You know, I’m really happy for you, Vex.”

Vex’s eyebrows raise briefly in surprise at the sentiment, but lower as her lips shift warmly. “Thanks, Pike,” she says quietly, like the fact that her emotion is so visible is worth the shyness. 

“You wanna go to the music room?” she asks, watching Vex struggle with the sound system. “I’ll play you anything you like.”

Vex laughs, nodding. “Well, how could I refuse that?” she says rhetorically. “I’ll pick something good.” 

They wander off, and Percy catches them disappearing around the corner of an archway, but it isn’t cause for concern. They’re all friends, Percy realizes, and that in itself is more carefree a feeling than he’s had in a long time.

\--

The room is huge and dimly lit, and their voices echo off the walls, the ceiling, even though they’re whispering. He’d had it built that way, with carefully measured acoustics and ideal design for performances. Pike sits down at Scanlan’s grand piano, teasing out a few notes as a warm up; Vex drops beside her, and they jokingly begin to play out _Heart and Soul;_ if Scanlan were in the room with them, he’d clutch at his heart and exclaim, “My grand piano! My beautiful piano, being used to play such an unsophisticated melody!” 

They dissolve into giggles for a moment, and then silence; it isn’t empty, though. It’s contemplative. Pike looks over at her and asks, very plainly, “What’s it feel like?” 

“Hm?” 

“Being with Percy.” Pike taps a few random notes. “After Saundor, what’s it feel like?” 

The straightforwardness of the question stills her; her heart trembles familiarly in her chest. She lowers her eyes to the keys, Pike’s practiced fingers jumping between them like water, like air, like nothing. Vex licks her lips, feeling suddenly parched, dry. She says, “It’s still hard to hear his name.” 

Pike says, “I was really worried about you, Vex, you know?” She rests her head against Vex’s shoulder. “It’s not that you weren’t getting better, or that you needed Percy to do it. But you’re so...much _different._ You’re who I remember you used to be, but more than that.”

Vex is silent, processing the depth of the statement, trying to figure out how possibly to answer it. “It’s not...like it’ll ever go away,” she begins slowly. “I don’t think love is some sort of drug that cures you if you find it. But I think - having someone I wanted to heal for - someone I wanted to be better for - did have an impact.” 

“I get that,” Pike says, but waits for more. 

Vex continues, “I still have bad days, bad nights. The memories are there and they linger. There are instincts that I can’t forget. I work through them because I’m not that person anymore and I can at least conquer a flashback, even if I couldn’t conquer the real thing at the time. But he’s...it’s like having a ghost, but not just of the person who hurt you; also of yourself.” She clenches her jaw once, ignoring the muscle in her throat. “And after that - having that - I guess it feels like...worse, in ways, because I recognize what it should’ve been, but I see what it is now, and it’s better than anything I could’ve imagined.”

“Love is complicated,” Pike says after a pause, mouth in a wry half-curl. 

Vex smiles too. “I have to acknowledge it all,” she says finally, “or I can’t move forward. I have to live with it because I don’t have another alternative. So that’s what I’m doing. And having you - having Grog, Scanlan, Vax - having Percy here makes each day feel a little more like a victory, and less like a challenge. I wouldn’t have made it here without you. All of you.” 

Pike still doesn’t speak, staring down at the keys, and the understanding creeps up on Vex gradually, like vines snaking through her body. She says gently, “You’re allowed to talk about yourself, you know,” and Pike’s shoulders tense automatically. “You’re allowed to hurt too, Pike. It isn’t selfish.”

“It feels wrong,” she admits unsteadily. “I feel like - like you’ve just been through so much, and I shouldn’t be complaining just because - I don’t know. It’s just hard.” 

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk about things that upset you simply because I’ve experienced what you think of as worse,” Vex says, heart swelling up in anguish. “I know you miss him.”

Pike bites down on her lip, a reaction Vex knows entirely too well, and her bones ache all over again. She says, “It’s stupid. We weren’t even together when he - when he left. But he was so fucked up, Vex, and I just wanted to _help_ him.” She takes a moment to swallow, playing out a soft melody Vex doesn’t recognize. “I guess that’s what hurts, you know? I was living like the possibility was out there. Like he’d go to rehab and get better and we could try, like, _really_ try to make it work. And he just - _left._ Like it was nothing. Like I meant nothing.”

“Maybe you meant too much,” Vex says quietly. “He was an addict, Pike, and he didn’t have the support system. Sometimes people need more than one person. I know it...it hurts to hear that maybe you alone weren’t enough, but I think - I think that kind of thing gets over-romanticized. Maybe he wanted to protect you. Or, if you’d like me to be cynical about it - maybe he just wasn’t for you.” 

A tear rolls down her cheek. Vex pretends not to notice as she wipes it away, because she’s aware how hard it is for Pike to be vulnerable when she’s the one normally taking care of the rest of them. She says, “I want to believe that. Either of those things. And I don’t think - I don’t think you’re wrong. But I guess I just - I don’t even know if he’s still alive, you know? He couldn’t have survived like that. Not for long. But I _don’t know,_ and the not knowing is what gets me. How do you move on from that?” She pauses for breath, attempting to clear her throat before she breaks down. “That’s what I’m asking, I guess. How did you _move on_ from that, Vex? How do I?” 

“You’re already doing it,” Vex points out. “You’ve been doing it every day. It’s not instantaneous. You won’t wake up one morning and find that it doesn’t hurt anymore. There are times when it will always feel fresh, but - I think those times come less and less; from a week to a day, a day to an hour, an hour to a minute.” She thinks of Saundor hovering in the back of her mind, Ripley clawing at the corner of Percy’s, Vax and the way he goes quiet around hospitals. “And then, eventually, you’ll blink and it’ll be gone, and you’ll see it for what it is: a memory. Just a memory. You’ll realize how far you’ve come, and it’ll only be a memory.”

“So give it time, is what you’re saying,” Pike says, sniffling. 

Vex draws her in close, her hand on Pike’s shoulder. “It isn’t the easiest, but everything else isn’t worth the relief. Trust me,” she adds to lighten the atmosphere, “I’ve tried it all.”

Pike rolls her eyes slightly. “No you haven’t,” she chides, and stumbles over herself again, like one last confession. “Sometimes I feel like...like there might be something real between me and Scanlan. There could be, if I let it. But I don’t think it’d be fair.” 

“If Scanlan’s serious about you,” Vex says, “he’ll wait until you’re ready. Until you both are.” 

Pike finally turns her gaze to Vex, and her eyes are watery, red, but she’s smiling. She doesn’t respond, but peeks over Vex’s shoulder, searching for something; she nudges on Vex’s arm. 

“Come on,” she says. “There’s been way too much talking. We’re musicians. Let’s do what we do best.”

She swings her legs around the bench, and pads over to the organ against the back wall, taking a seat there instead. Vex follows and stands beside her, waiting. 

“I know I’d said I’d play whatever you wanted,” Pike starts, “but I’m making the choice for this one.” Her fingers find an F major and hold it; it takes Vex a moment to place the note, echoing hauntingly, but when she does, her lips quirk up. 

“Really?” she asks, waiting for confirmation among the eerie reverberation. “Isn’t this song about--”

“Sing, sweetheart,” Pike interrupts, deliberately playing the same note again. “It’s how you let go of things. It’s how we all do. It can mean anything you want it to.” 

Vex closes her eyes for a second and breathes, trying to find herself in the music. Well, she thinks, maybe it’s about time. Maybe carrying it under her skin and letting it live there isn’t enough anymore. Maybe Pike’s right, and after everything, she wants to believe they’re owed this: a release of some kind, any kind, no matter how small. 

_Regrets collect like old friends._ She watches the way Pike smiles quietly to herself; Vex’d sing for the sight of that and that alone. _Here to relive your darkest moments..._

She isn’t facing the doorway, and so she doesn’t see them enter; Vax, Scanlan, and miraculously, Grog, move quietly over to various instruments around the room, careful not to disturb the fragility of the song quite yet. Percy and Keyleth are actually settling on the floor off to the side, and Percy has his phone out and on record, because anything in Vex’s voice deserves to live forever. He’ll never get tired of hearing it. _Every demon wants its pound of flesh, but I like to keep some things to myself._ Listening to her sing has no equivalent; no gods, no legends, no angelic choir. Keyleth sways next to him, sinking into the emotion of it.

Vex gets to _It’s always darkest before the dawn,_ and she’s expecting it, somehow, the crashing of the drums, the tambourine, the strings, Pike harmonizing in a beautiful lilt. She doesn’t falter. She turns to face them and only Vax meets her eyes, and his expression reminds her of something in retreat, but not in hiding; hollow, hope, regret, pride. _I can never leave the past behind._ Grog’s drumming like it’s the only way to feel anything at all, and Scanlan isn’t making it about him, isn’t putting on a show. They’d heard, she realizes. They’d heard every word, and it’d meant something to them, and this is how they’re showing it. For her, for Pike.

He reaches for her hand, still shaking the tambourine in his other, but stands and pulls her against his side carefully, meaningfully. _Tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground._ She leans into the touch, and the love between them is tangible, omnipresent, settling into the floor, the furniture, the melody. Vax listens to her and instead of a funeral he finds a rebirth.

Pike’s voice floats above hers, but it isn’t lost; _and I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart._ Vex’s fingers curl against her chest, and it isn’t a performance at all; to Percy, it’s akin to watching someone step out of a skin that no longer fits, stretching above an overgrown skeleton, pulse tired of being contained to a cage of broken bone. Keyleth is lowly singing along with them, affected on a personal level. It’s hard to see something so immensely intimate and walk away unscathed by it.

Vex turns back to Pike, releasing Vax, and sits backwards beside her, facing the room. They exchange a glance, and suddenly Vex’s voice quiets, and the two of them shift lines, like a swing, like a carousel; the feeling between them is intense, like they’re feeding each other emotion, heightening it, letting it grow. Vex pours _Given half the chance, would I take any of it back?_ like it’s her own blood, and Pike chimes in before she’s dropped the last note with _it’s a fine romance, but it’s left me so undone._

And Vex trails off entirely, allowing Pike to take it over; it isn’t a show, it’s people who love her, and it’s the only way she can tell them the truth. _And I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t, so here’s to drinks in the dark at the end of my rope._ Pike doesn’t normally highlight herself in their music - she doesn’t really want to fill a role like that, she’s always said - but even Scanlan falters momentarily at hearing her sing, _really_ sing _._ Keyleth’s lips are parted in the barest form of surprise, and Vex is smiling in a way that suggests she’d cry if she could. Pike’s voice is stunning on its own, like windchimes in a hurricane, the way it tumbles and tilts and holds; _I’m ready to suffer, ready to hope._ _It’s a shot in the dark, and right at my throat._

The two of them both sing _looking for heaven, found the devil in me;_ Pike stumbles over raw emotion, but the honesty of it still manages to be beautiful and chilling. Percy’s reminded of a castle, of something empty but with history. 

By the time it ends, the room stands still in silence, filled to the brim with the echo of letting go, and there’s not gravitational pull of the earth, no moon, no rising tide.

 _Gone,_ the word rings in the air somehow, despite never having been said aloud. _Gone._

Pike lowers her hands from the keys, and turns suddenly, burying her face in Vex’s shoulder; their embrace lasts for a split second before Grog encompasses them both, weeping loudly, and Vax squeezes in, dragging Scanlan with him. 

“I’m in awe of you,” Vax says quietly to Vex, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. “You’re the strongest person I know.” 

“You have to _tell me_ when you’re _sad_ ,” Grog’s howling out, like he’s committed a grave offense by not knowing. “I _love_ you.” 

Scanlan doesn’t speak at all, and it says more than if he had.

\--

“I think I forget,” Keyleth says, watching them with a distance in her eyes, a desert, a storm. “I forget that everybody gets hurt.”

Percy watches Grog picking up Pike in the biggest hug he’s ever seen, holding her small form tightly to him, and says, “Me, too.” 

“Are we detached?” Keyleth asks. “Pike always seems so strong.” 

“No,” Percy says. “I think it’s just a strangely difficult thing to remember, for whatever reason, that most people are probably still hurting from something, no matter how they come off to others. I like to think it’s because we want to believe they’re not. I think it’d say much nicer things about us, if we choose to believe we miss pain in favor of wanting to believe it doesn’t exist.” 

“Yeah,” Keyleth says, and rests her cheek against his shoulder. “It’s nicer to think that other people are happy, or at the very least, undamaged.” She pauses, caught up in the sight of Vex disappearing under a group hug, and then asks candidly, “Are you okay, Percy?” She draws a knee into her chest, her other still angled against the floor. “I don’t want you to feel like you aren’t important to me anymore. Because you are, and you always will be. You were the first real friend I’d ever had.” 

He rests a hand against her thigh, presses his lips to the crown of her head, and thinks fondly of the way she’d walked effortlessly into his life and never looked back. Nothing about him or his past had frightened her off, nor had it exactly appealed to her, either. _I just like you,_ she’d said. _You tell me the truth. And I think you’re lonely. I’m pretty lonely too._ She’d lowered her eyes and told it to him with a smile that had somehow still been real, a feat of sincerity he hadn’t believed were possible.

It had crippled him, as odd as it sounds. He remembers wanting to run to her, and fall into her lap, and cry; like he could pour out his soul and she’d find a way to wash it, regardless of whatever demon had made a home there. Something about Keyleth rooted inside of him, like she’d made herself eternal by seeing the truth of him when nobody else could. 

“Yes,” he tells her honestly. “I’m okay, and I owe that to many people, darling, including you - _especially_ you.” He feels her smile against his shoulder, and her fingers find his and lace through. “You’re my best friend.” 

She’s quiet for a moment. “I guess we’re becoming the people we’d hoped for,” she says poignantly, a sentiment he’d never thought would ring true.

He’d always somewhat imagined happiness as a placecard at a table that would never read his name; something for _other_ people to find and sit inside of, to take out and enjoy company with. But he rests with the comforting weight of Keyleth against his side, and the woman he loves laughing without a curse in the middle of her spine, and his own soul free of claws, and he thinks--

Yes, of course. This _must_ be it.

\--

(Scanlan holds Pike back as they traipse out of the music room, his fingers curling around her wrist gently.

Should I stop? he asks in a rare moment of humorlessness. Do you want me to stop? 

She observes him soundly, taken aback by the candidness of the question; he isn’t one to be so alarmingly self-aware. No, she says, surprising even herself. No, I don’t. 

Really? he asks, clearly as perplexed by her answer as she is. Why not?

Because one day, she says with a smile, I might say yes.)

\--

It actually evolves from there, but in a way only fitting of them.

Pike and Grog end up jumping into Scanlan’s heated pool with their clothes on after double-triple-quadruple daring each other to, and by the time Vax and Keyleth wander past to explore his garden, they’re in the jacuzzi with margaritas that Scanlan’s made and genuinely crying - shedding real, actual tears - about how cool Vex is, who has _finally_ cracked Scanlan’s ridiculous sound system and has one of her Spotify playlists on shuffle, swaying in Percy’s arms in the living room. The lighting is dim and intimate, and they’re alone.

They’re not really dancing, but they’re also not on the brink of devouring each other, either. It’s not like New York anymore; nothing really is. Hungry impulses can be acted on without the cover of masks. And it’s a convenient thing, too, because Vex looks _good._

It’s strange, for Percy, all this _wanting;_ Vex has on an off-white maxi skirt made of some sort of almost-translucent, flowy material, with a slit that goes high up her thigh but never enough to be too revealing, and a black tank top tucked inside; she’s wearing two of her many necklaces - one with a blue feather similar to the one she wears in her hair, and the other looks like a gold bear paw print, surrounded by various raw gemstones. Her hair falls loose over her shoulders, down her back, the roll of a wave over water. All he wants to do is touch her, strip her away until he’s left with what’s underneath, her mouth, her skin, her hips, her scars. He wants it all.

Not that it takes much else, on her end.

One of the first things Percy’s learned about Vex is that her moods are easily influenced by whatever music’s playing; something slow and haunting makes her introspective, and anything upbeat allows her a sense of carelessness, joy. And certain songs - types of electronica, dance with deep, sultry beats - turn her on.

He has his hands low on her waist, holding her against him; her fingers are linked around the back of his neck. The song in the background remains there for the time being; it isn’t enough to alter her state of mind, shift her one direction or the other. She’s just looking at him quietly, but the lines of her mouth are soft, signaling her contentedness. 

She says, “This night didn’t exactly go how I’d planned.” 

“Does it ever, with us?” he points out rhetorically. “I’m more in a position of at least finally being able to appreciate a certain degree of simplicity.” 

“Oh?” she says. “Such as?” 

“Well, being able to kiss you, for one,” he says, and he does just that, lingering and light. “It was much harder when I wanted to before, but ran the risk of getting it wrong.” 

She laughs. “That’s true. I do prefer this. It comforts me knowing that it won’t matter what you hear from me, anymore; you’ll love me the same.” 

“I adore you,” he says, almost in a sigh. The feeling sometimes threatens to digest him whole, like it has its own heart, its own body. Like it wants to possess him. 

“So I’ve noticed.” Her smiles flutters at the edges, and she brings his mouth down to hers and kisses him again, intending it as a conclusion, but--

The song fades, and there’s a pulsating hum, a throbbing beat, and Percy knows _exactly_ what is about to happen the split second before it does. The slant of Vex’s mouth changes instantly, lips parting, tongue brushing against his; her fingers slide up his scalp, tangling in his hair. Her spine arches, hips pressing into his. 

She pulls away, and he watches the way her eyes darken and shift, pupils dilating slightly, the rhythm burrowing into her skin. Her lips curl from a smile into a dangerous sort of smirk, as if she bears the threat of fangs; her nails dig lightly in and drag down, and he shivers without being able to stop it. She starts to mouth the words under her breath; it’s the first step. Vex is always irresistible, but when she’s like this - this creature of indulgence, of relentless desire, a siren, a goddess - he finds himself reduced to a darkness found not in demons, but of the devil himself. He thinks of nothing else; he _has_ to have her, be in her, on her, all over her.

“So, Percival,” she says, voice low and sensual, and the way she murmurs his name makes him think _yes, please, yes._ “Maybe it’s time you learn to dance.” 

\--

(It’s not what she expects at all, somehow, but Percy _can_ dance. She’s shocked and turned on all the more; he’s taken so many forms of martial arts training for various films that he already possesses a fluidity, an awareness of body, that specific type of deftness and dexterity needed for it. But it’s Vex, and she can’t maintain this kind of intensity for long; there was a time she employed patience as if it worked for her on a payroll, but that’s over and done, now. She draws him closer, closer, closer, still enamored by the thrill of novelty, of being able to touch him and take him and burn.

She grabs his hand and tugs, turning away, her mouth red, eyelashes dipping low and up; he follows her up the stairs, down a hallway, into a door she pushes open--

\--and promptly slams behind him, her palms against his chest, shoving him backwards, pressing him against the wood with a strength she doesn’t seem like she possesses. Her lips are on his hungrily like a claim, a fury. _It’s like the world is over_ , he’d said once; _not like it’s ending, but like it already has, and we’re what remains. You like it. Having the world to yourself, and me._

He relishes in the feeling of being lost to her, and she’s aware of it. He gives over his resolve as if it never existed in the first place. “Whatever you want,” he exhales, her mouth hot and sucking hard over his pulse point at the crook of his neck. “Gods, Vex, I’ll do _anything_.” 

She rolls his blue flannel over his shoulders, down his arms, lets it drop; he reaches a hand to the top of his spine and tugs his white shirt over his head, feeling her fingers instantly spread against his bare chest. 

“You’ve been watching me all night,” she says, and she roughly reclaims his mouth; her teeth catch his bottom lip and he moans into her without being able to stop himself. 

“Has there been anything else to look at?” he says once she’s released him, one hand gliding up her thigh, through the cut of her skirt. 

“And what exactly have you been thinking about, Percival?” she asks lowly, tracing his jawline, capturing his chin in her hand, forcing him to meet her eyes. She’s so fucking hot she may actually kill him, burying him deeper with every word, every flicker of her smile, every flutter of her eyelashes. 

“This,” he confesses helplessly. “Vex--” 

She curls a finger through one of the belt loops on his black jeans and drags him forward, guiding him towards the bed; she switches their positions, the backs of his knees hitting the mattress. “Take these off,” she murmurs, “and I think you’ll probably get what you’re aiming for.” 

She slips her own tank top over her head, steps out of her skirt; she pushes him gently onto the bed, hovering over him, her hips on either side of his and her lips set in a sultry kind of viciousness, like she’s enjoyed every second of torture, of power. Vex fucks the way she looks; like a last wish, anyone’s sinful midnight fantasy, something to willfully die for. He doesn’t know how he survived without her, but sometimes, he isn’t sure how he survives with her, either.)

\--

Vex’s room is charming, but it’s more minimalist than he expects. She doesn’t seem to _own_ too many things - her closet is the exception; it’s jam-packed - but there isn’t much of even sentimental value, no possessions lying about just to prove she has them.

“Nowhere ever felt like home enough for it,” she only shrugs, moving on, and he thinks suddenly of a house filled with her presence, her things all scattered about and the furniture exactly to her taste, compromising on a color scheme. 

“Maybe that will change,” he says, and her answering smile waves shyly in his certainty of the future.

\--

“Nice hickey,” Scanlan says when they reappear an hour later, looking like they’d done exactly what they’d been doing. 

“Ta,” Percy responds, because he _just_ doesn’t fucking care anymore.

“I was talking to Vex,” Scanlan says, smirking, and Percy glances down on instinct to the dip of her tank top, the memory coming to him; Vex’s arching back, his mouth against her collarbone, and down, down, down. “But she’s sure ruining you, de Rolo. Look at you. You’re a goddamn mess.”

“Jesus, Christ,” Vax says, Keyleth laughing in the background; it’s not _that_ bad, but it’s noticeable, just above the curve of her breast. Percy tilts his head to look and Vax catches sight of his neck. “Fucking _hells,_ ” he says, even louder, more exasperated. 

Vex only shrugs. “Let’s look at this positively, please,” she says, leaning against Percy’s chest, holding his arms around her waist. “You can all be comforted by the knowledge that I am having truly incredible sex, and I feel fantastic.” 

“Who would _possibly_ be comforted by that--” Vax starts to say, but Keyleth yells, “ _Wooooo!_ ” and he gives up entirely, putting his face in his hands. It’s not like he thinks Vex is innocent - not even _close_ \- but more so that he doesn’t feel the need to be constantly reminded of it all the time.

“I am,” Percy says. “I’m comforted by that.” 

Pike drunkenly raises her margarita from the jacuzzi and calls, “As long as _someone_ here is having good sex.” 

Vex only grins and says, “Cheers, Pike.”

Vax slowly turns around, gathering all the items out of his jean pockets - phone, wallet, keys - and places them carefully on the table. He walks towards Pike and Grog in the water like a funeral march, and promptly drops into the jacuzzi between them, his expression submerged in distress. 

“This is where I need to be,” he says stoically. “Scanlan, give me whatever Pike’s having, and make it twice as strong.” 

Keyleth slips off her dress, hanging it over the back of a chair, and Vex gapes appreciatively. Keyleth, not having noticed, only shrugs apologetically and says, “It isn’t dry-clean only or anything; I just don’t want to risk it.”

“Oh, _wow,_ ” Vex says. “Not that I didn’t understand before, but…”

“Oh, my Gods,” Vax says, and ducks his entire head under water. 

“The bisexual disaster twins,” Pike slurs. “You’re inspirations to us all.”

Keyleth runs and jumps into the pool in a cannonball, fortunately the splash missing any of the cocktails around the edge. 

“Eight-point-five,” Scanlan calls when she reemerges, swiping her hair out of her face. She laughs, disappearing under again.

Vex throws Percy a flirtatiously raised eyebrow over her shoulder, and oh, he knows _exactly_ where this is going. She steps away and strips out of her shirt, rolls her skirt over her hips again, undoes all the work she’d just done to seem presentable, and then she’s left standing in front of him in her underwear, which though made of black lace, are fortunately _not_ see-through to Vax’s relief. 

She says, “Coming?” 

“I’m not looking,” Vax says, hanging over the edge into the pool, and Keyleth swims up like some type of water nymph, curling her fingers around the back of his neck and kissing him until he forgets what he’s pretending to suffer about. 

Vex jumps in after - _Seven,_ calls Scanlan - and Percy removes his clothing again and follows, because it’s Vex, and there’s really nothing on earth that could stop him from following her anywhere, into anything, ever again.

 _Ten,_ Scanlan yells.

\--

The problem ends up being that Percy grows used to her being there, as if she always has been, like a whisper of a life they almost lived somewhere else, some other time. His world is comfortable with her in it, space feeling unburdened instead of empty, and it’s larger, somehow, as if it no longer confines him the way it once did. It’s only a week, but it changes him a little bit. Enough to notice when she leaves.

Their goodbye isn’t like Vax and Keyleth’s, who kiss standing outside the bus with tears in their eyes like it’s about to drive him to his doom; Percy merely embraces her for a minute or two, her arms wound around his shoulders, and presses his mouth to hers once in a brief farewell. 

Everyone waves out the bus windows, and then they’re gone, pulling away from the curb.

Percy glances over at Keyleth, still staring down the street as if she’s waiting for them to reappear, and says, “Why don’t we go back to mine and order in?” 

She turns to him, smiling brighter than she feels. “Sure,” she says, a step down from her normal cheerful. “I want to watch _Pride and Prejudice._ ” 

He observes the careful turn of her mouth, the way her eyes focus in front of her instead of above, how she walks forward solidly, steadily. Keyleth is changed too, and the revelation startles him somewhat; he’d never imagined Keyleth as a person who _needed_ to change, not like him or Vex or Vax, but she’s built her life around growth, for earth, for people, for soul. Perhaps there is more to Keyleth and her gardens than he’d realized.

\--

 **vex’ildan** @ _imvexthatsvax_ · May 5  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4...

 **Percival __** _@PercivaldeRolo_ · 4m  
_Replying to @imvexthatsvax_  
I’m a little late, but nonetheless:  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GG4aNiGswNQ...

 **vex’ildan** _@imvexthatsvax_ · now  
_Replying to @PercivaldeRolo_  
i’ll call that worth the wait.

\--

_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_and how long have you been holding onto that one?_

_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Since Atlanta. It hadn’t felt appropriate until now._

_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_When did you add this - lips emoji? How tantalizing._

_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_it’s the new facebook official. without a flirtatious emoji next to your name, you’re nothing._

_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_So what’s mine?_

_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_yours is actually the same in mine_

_FROM: Vex’ahlia_  
_except in your mobile_ _is more like a promise and in mine it’s what i’d like to do to you_

_TO: Vex’ahlia_  
_Oh dear._

\--

 **vax’ahlia** @ _imvaxthatsvex_ · 5m  
.@keylethoftheair keyleth i am COMPELLED to share my feelings for u through this song via the public social media platform twitter https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q4VK9_CfOLQ...

 **Keyleth __** _@keylethoftheair_ · 3m  
_Replying to @imvaxthatsvex_  
Vax that is so crazy because i was JUST about to post this for you!!! I don’t know what came over me but i was suddenly overwhelmed with love for you  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Gl2QnHNpkA...

 **vex’ildan** @ _imvexthatsvax_ · 2m  
_Replying to @keylethoftheair @imvaxthatsvex_  
ha-ha! you two can fuck right off

 **Percival** @ _PercivaldeRolo_ · 1m  
_Replying to @imvexthatsvax @keylethoftheair @imvaxthatsvex_  
I’m blocking the both of you.

\--

“Put your damn phone down, Percy,” Keyleth says, throwing a piece of fruit at him. “She’s stepping out of the carriage. It’s your favorite part.”

Percy catches the grape in his hand and sighs, but she isn’t wrong. “The subtlety of the action,” he says for the thousandth time. “As if something about the touch was painful to him.” 

“I know,” Keyleth agrees longingly. “It’s real, you know? The _emotion_.” 

There’s a pause as they both absorb the scene, and then Percy says, “Do you have an emoji next to Vax’s name in your phone?” 

“Duh,” she says. “Otherwise it’s like, who even _is_ he?” 

There are some things, Percy reconciles with himself, that he may never intuitively understand.


End file.
